Star Trek: Simulacrum
by BlackCapricornDay
Summary: In the Galactic Core, Captain Zia Rashid and the seven-person crew of the USS Icarus discover a world inhabited by the advanced technology of a long-dead species.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Trek: Icarus – Simulacrum**

 _ **Author's** **Note**_ **: This story follows my earlier "Star Trek: Icarus," but can be read as a standalone as well. Set a century after TNG, it follows the seven-person crew of the experimental science vessel _USS Icarus_ as they explore strange new worlds in the Galactic Centre. It's my idea of what a new Trek miniseries might look like, and follows the primary universe canon but not extended canon (and also considers Star Trek V to be, shall we say... apocryphal). Feel free to drop a review!**

 _Captain's Log, Stardate 136489.8._

 _It has been a month since_ Icarus _entered the Galactic Core. We've returned to our communications relay at the edge of the Core for a scheduled mission report, and have received authorization from Starfleet Command to investigate a possible inhabited M-Class planet. Much to my relief, Starfleet Command has seen fit to allow me to remain in command of this mission, despite my disturbing experiences with the temporal paradox._

Captain Zia Rashid catches herself staring at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment as she ties her hair above her head. She blinks, briefly straightens her dark purple dress, then steps out of the bathroom into the dining room of her condo. Swirling, abstract paintings adorn the wall alongside alien sculptures, and the soft piano of Bill Evans plays from overhead speakers. Outside the wall-length window, the Damascus city lights shine in the clear night.

She sits at the table and gazes at one of the paintings. After a moment, she calls, "Do you need a hand with anything, Omar?"

"No need!" A tall man with dark eyes emerges through the doorway, carrying two plates of sushi. He sets one in front of her. "This one's for you." He smirks. "I think. Unless it tastes like hologram. In which case it's mine."

She smiles. "It'll be a pale imitation of your legendary Tanaka family recipe."

He places his plate across from her and sits, lighting a candle at the centre of the table. "Well, it should be identical on the molecular level to the sushi I prepared here. Assuming Pon's got your replicators working properly. But, you know, it's still missing the most important secret ingredient."

"Which is?"

"Love."

She smirks. "You're ridiculous."

He pours a glass of wine, and then pours a glass for her from a second bottle. They raise their glasses and he says, "Happy anniversary, _habibi_."

"Happy anniversary." Their glasses clink together and they each take a sip.

Omar leans back in his chair. "It's pretty convincing, this holo-link system. I forgot for a second that you were half-way across the galaxy." He takes another drink of wine and raises an eyebrow. "It'd be interesting to see how realistic it is for… other purposes."

She chuckles. "I wish. But the holodeck is booked for nineteen hundred hours. Plus, holo-you can never compare to the real thing." She cocks her head. "Still, might almost be worth it to get a quickie in. It is our anniversary, after all. And it's been a long time for me."

"Yeah, I suppose it's been significantly longer for you than it has for me." He shakes his head. "You know, I'm never going to get used to that whole temporal displacement thing. Do you realize that you're not younger than me anymore? I'm married to an older woman!"

"Only by a couple of weeks."

"Still." He takes a maki roll with his chopsticks and dips it in soy sauce. "And I suppose that, from your perspective, it's not even our anniversary. It would have already happened."

She looks down. "I thought of that while I was stranded on _Icarus_." She pauses. "Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, today is our ten-year anniversary. The time I was alone on the ship… it doesn't count."

"I suppose not." He regards her with concern. "Zia, are you sure you're alright?"

She stares into his eyes. "Honestly… yeah. I mean, for now. I'm glad we're continuing the mission. I'm confident I can do it. And I think I need to do it."

"Are you sure? You seem… I don't know. There's something about you."

"Maybe it's just the hologram you're seeing. It's probably about to become sentient and fall madly in love with you." She grins. "And hey, it probably has less baggage, not having seen the end of the universe and everything. And technically it's a younger woman. Maybe you should go for it."

"Hah." He eats another maki. "Did I tell you I'm working on a new piece? It's inspired by your experience in the distant future, and I'm hoping to have it ready for the Bolian Exhibition. It's called 'Heat Death.'"

"Oo." Rashid purses her lips. "Can I see it?"

"It's not ready yet. But I'll give you a hint: it's black. Many shades. The detail is all in the brushstrokes."

"I can't wait." She eats a piece of maki. "Mm. It's close. Very close. But you know, I swear I can taste the difference. It's almost the real thing, but not quite."

There is a beep, and the computer says, "It's eighteen hundred hours and fifty eight minutes."

Rashid looks down. "Listen, Omar, this has been really great. And I'm really sorry I couldn't be home…"

"Shh. You're a Starfleet captain. I know what it's like." He grins wryly. "I'm thinking about starting a support group, actually."

They stand and embrace. She buries her face in his shoulder, tears dripping into the holographic recreation of his tunic. "I love you so much, _habibi_."

"I love you too, Zia. Ten wonderful years."

They hold each other silently, and kiss tearfully. The computer says, "It's nineteen hundred hours."

They pull apart, and he holds her at arm's length. "You're going to be alright?"

"Yes. Thanks. This was nice." She stares into his eyes. "Talk to you in a couple weeks?"

"Definitely." He hugs her again. "Goodbye, Zia. Be careful out there."

"Goodbye, Omar." After a long moment, she says, "Computer, end program."

Omar and her condo disappear, leaving only her food and wine on the table in the empty holodeck. She takes her plate and glass, and the table vanishes as she walks out the archway.

Pon is waiting for her outside. Seeing the captain's dress, she ventures, "You look nice."

Rashid raises an eyebrow. "Thanks…?"

"Let it not be said that I'm not making an effort to get along better with my shipmates and their pointless social niceties."

"Ah. Well, I appreciate the effort. Sorry I went overtime with the holo-link."

"No apology necessary. I'll just be talking to my family, and frankly, I would have been just as happy to use the neural interfaces for the less immersive experience, but the kids insisted. Apparently they attempted to make braised howl-fungus."

"That sounds… delightful?"

"That's one word for it," Pon scoffs. "I mean, I love howl-fungus as much as the next Tellarite, but it's best eaten raw and howling. Who were you talking to in there? Husband?"

Rashid nods. "Yeah."

"Take my advice: get a few more. Then you can play them off each other. They become a lot less needy."

She chuckles. "I didn't realize that polyandry was common on Tellar."

"It's not. The Traditional Culture League has been giving me crap for years. Those people can suck my _prangs_." She sighs. "Anyway, best not to keep the kiddies waiting. By the way, Commander Sparks says we made an interesting discovery about this Class M planet. I guess there's a special briefing at nineteen hundred thirty. Which is a convenient out for me. I'll see you there."

"See you there, Commander." She watches as the Tellarite takes a deep breath, then passes through the archway into the holodeck. Rashid returns to her quarters and finishes her sushi while changing into her red command uniform.

She sits on her bunk and sips her wine while gazing out at the dense starscape of the Galactic Core. After a long moment, she leaves her quarters for the turbolift. It rises a few decks, then stops and the door opens.

"Good evening, Zia," comes Dr. Alomar's rich baritone as he steps into the lift next to her.

"Good evening, Tomas. How are Q'ar and the kids?"

"They're well. My husband, of course, was very excited to see me. But Ximena and Ao'Thyra… let's just say that they're at the age where hearing about their father's exploits doesn't entirely hold their attention." Rashid chuckles.

The door opens at the bridge, where the crew sits around the briefing table, an astrometric chart suspended in the space above. Alomar sits next to Sparks, and Rashid stands at the head of the table. "I hope you've all made the most of our contact with home," she smiles, "because this next phase of our mission promises to be quite fascinating. Commander Sparks and I have cross-referenced our probe data on the nearby M-class planet with the Starfleet database and have made a very exciting discovery. Isaiah?"

"Thank you, Captain." Sparks points to one of the planets in the holographic star chart, and it enlarges. "We've been analyzing some of the EM signals emanating from the planet. At first, they didn't seem to match anything in our database, but after conferring with Starfleet Command, we've determined that the signals are Iconian!"

The crew glances among each other, and Rashid adds, "For those of you who have only a vague recollection of astro-archaeology class, the Iconian civilization thrived approximately two hundred thousand years ago. By all accounts, they were a powerful empire whose influence extended throughout much of the galaxy until they were overthrown by a coalition of their enemies. Their homeworld, which is in the former Romulan Neutral Zone, was destroyed by orbital bombardment, and they are now believed to be extinct."

Dr. Susan Sorensen looks puzzled. "Why didn't we initially detect that the signals were Iconian when we initially received the probe data?"

"I was curious about that myself," Rashid tells the science officer. "The reason is that most information pertaining to the Iconians is strictly classified. It goes back to the Dominion War, apparently. The Iconians had a sort of long-range transporter technology which allowed them to transport anywhere in the galaxy instantaneously. At the time, Starfleet Command was quite concerned about the Dominion getting any information about the technology."

"Interestingly enough," Sparks adds, "the first joint Starfleet-Dominion operation was actually to destroy an Iconian transporter gateway in the Gamma Quadrant shortly before the war. Since then, there has been the odd discovery of Iconian ruins, but no sign of functioning Iconian technology. So, needless to say, Starfleet is quite excited about this discovery."

"Is there any sign of life on the planet?" Alomar inquires.

"No sign as of yet," Rashid answers. "We'll need to get closer to get more accurate readings. But the general level of EM activity does suggest a functioning society."

"What do we know about the Iconians?" Avala asks. "Should we be concerned that they'll be hostile?"

Sparks turns to her. "Actually, to help answer that question, I've been able to get in touch with an old acquaintance who served on two of the major Iconian-related incidents on record. I thought he'd be able to provide some firsthand insight. He's standing by now, and I suggest we put him through without further delay."

"He doesn't strike me as the sort of person one keeps waiting." Rashid sits near the head of the table, then taps a console. "Activate holo-link."

At the seat at the head of the table, an ancient, grizzled Klingon materializes, wearing battle armour and a wide baldric bedecked with various medals. He slowly looks around the bridge, his jagged fangs bared.

"Dahar Master Worf," Sparks addresses him in Klingon. "We are honoured by your presence. Allow me to introduce Captain Zia Rashid and the crew of the _USS Icarus_."

"It has been some time since I have been aboard a Starfleet vessel," Worf says. "Things have changed."

" _Icarus_ represents the next generation of Starfleet research vessels," Rashid tells him, "designed for travel in the Galactic Core by our own Dr. Pon. It's equipped with an experimental superspace inversion matrix which allows us to sustain a warp field despite the intense gravimetric stresses of the Core, as well as state of the art matter projection technology which allows us to temporarily replicate any instrumentation we need and to repair any damage."

Worf glares at her for a long, awkward moment. "You are the captain?"

"Yes, sir." She meets the Klingon's gaze.

"And you are prepared to face the Iconians? To face the demons of air and darkness?"

"Well, we're not sure if there will be any living Iconians there, but…"

"I have been to Iconia," Worf tells her. "I have seen their technology. Even now, it is still beyond our comprehension. Captain Picard believed that they may have been a peaceful race, misunderstood by the ones who destroyed them. But I have done battle in an Iconian structure, and I have no doubt that it was built by warriors. The walls had known battle before."

"I understand that the _USS Yamato_ was destroyed by an Iconian computer program," Rashid says. "We've taken steps to counteract it, but is there anything you can tell us about it from firsthand experience?"

Worf strokes his long grey beard. "It was like a disease, spreading from one body to the next. Even to Commander Data. It nearly destroyed the _Enterprise_ until we reinitialized the main computer."

"Who was your engineer?" Pon scoffs. "All it took was reinitializing the main computer? That would be the first thing I would try."

Worf slams his fist on the table and bellows, "You would dare dishonour the name of the _Enterprise_ crew?"

"Hey, I've read Geordi La Forge and yes, he's one of the defining engineering minds of his time and all that. But, I mean, come on, Geordi. It's a malicious computer program. What's the first thing you try?"

"He solved engineering problems which would turn your mind to paste!" Worf stands. "It is fortunate that I am not physically present with you, Tellarite!"

"Oh, really? What are you going to do, old man?" Pon rises to her feet as well as Rashid and Sparks gesture frantically at her to stop. "Why don't I turn the safety protocols off and we see what happens?"

They storm around the table to face each other, and Rashid follows close behind Worf, shouting at Pon to sit down. The Klingon and Tellarite glare at each other for a moment, Worf's hand raised to strike Pon, who faces him warily, fists raised.

Then Worf's snarl turns to a grin, and he begins to laugh. "I can see that the heart of a warrior beats within you!" Pon lowers her fists, and Worf claps her on the shoulder. "But do not be so foolish as to underestimate the Iconians."

Rashid glares at Pon, who shrugs and sits down. Rashid returns to her seat, and Worf says to her, "You should remember my warning as well. The Iconian Empire may be gone, but even on their dead worlds, traces of their power remain, like embers of a fire."

"I appreciate that, sir," Rashid replies.

"And if you encounter any threats, you should heed your tactical officer's advice." He faces Avala. "Is that you?"

"Yes, sir," the young Andorian replies. "Lieutenant Vanda Avala."

He eyes her. "I have found that human commanders can be infuriatingly slow to act decisively when confronted with potential danger. But also remember that the perspective is very different from the command chair."

She smiles slightly. "Thank you, sir. I will bear that in mind."

Worf turns to Sparks. "Send me a report of your mission when you are finished. I am curious to know what you discover." He hesitates for a moment. "And, Commander…"

"Yes, sir?"

Worf leans forward. "When you served on _Deep Space Nine_ , did you ever encounter a Trill officer named Dax?"

He nods. "Yes, sir. In fact, Captain Dax came by quite often. He said he spent the best parts of two lifetimes there and liked getting back whenever he could."

"He…?"

"Yes, sir. Captain Calban Dax."

Worf looks perplexed. "Well, if you see him, tell him to contact me." He stands. "I wish you success on your mission! Qapla'!"

"Thank you, sir," Sparks replies. "Qapla'!"

Worf vanishes. Rashid turns to Pon. "He's a Dahar Master!"

"Klingons don't respect you unless you stand up to them. And if you don't provoke them a bit, they get bored."

"I thought he was adorable," Avala opines.

"Alright, well, let's make sure that we're ready for that computer weapon of theirs."

"On it," Pon says. "I'll take a look at the old _Enterprise_ logs. I should be able to set up a polymorphic firewall to quarantine any invasive programs."

"Good. Ensign Rylek, how far are we from the planet at Warp 3?"

"Two days, eleven hours, sixteen minutes, Captain," the young Vulcan replies.

"Set a course." Rashid looks up. "Computer, bridge setting."

The table disappears, and control consoles appear around the room. The crew's chairs move to their respective stations. Rashid points toward the viewscreen. "Engage."

* * *

"Ah."

"Oh, yeah. Just keep doing it, just like that… yeah."

"Ah yeah, that's right."

"Just keep… just keep… yeah. Ahh."

Avala rolls off Sparks and lays beside him, flushed a deep shade of blue. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. "You like that?" he grins.

"Yes, sir." She puts a hand on his chest, her antennae close to his face. "Mm, you know I did."

"I'm glad you came by. I was thinking about you that whole shift." He kisses her neck. "Can I get you something from the replicator?"

"Nah, I'm alright." She is silent for a moment, and her antennae retract. "Do you find it a bit weird that Rylek and Susan are best friends all of a sudden?"

"Rylek and Susan…? Well, I mean, they did a mind meld. That's a pretty personal experience."

"Yeah, but it's just… I don't know. The other night he apparently went over to her quarters and she showed him this ancient human video program, _Doctor Who_."

Sparks nods. "Classic."

"He said it was illogical. And yet he keeps spending all this time with her. I've known him for a long time and this is very un-Rylek. What do you think?"

"What do I think?"

She rolls over. "Yeah. I mean, don't you think it's weird?"

"I don't know… as XO, I don't think it's really appropriate for me to comment on the private business of our shipmates."

She smirks, pushing him gently. "You're so by-the-book. 'I'm Commander Sparks. I'm a human. Look at all my rules.'"

"Hah. Come here." He pulls her to him and they kiss.

"We are approaching our destination," the computer tells them. "You should probably get to the bridge."

"I hate that Tellarite behavioural subroutine Pon installed on the computer!" she says. "It's always arguing with me. Why would I want the ship's computer to argue with me?"

"I gather the captain felt like it was keeping her company during the weeks she was alone. I think you can disable it for your own interactions with it, but I could swear it doesn't want me to figure out how to do that." He sits up. "But we should get to the bridge."

"Oo, I'm so excited! Our first planet here in the Galactic Core!" She gets out of Sparks' bed and dresses. Putting her comm badge on, she says, "So… the usual? I'll go now, you take the next lift?"

"Yeah. It's not that I feel like we have anything to hide. It's just… you know."

"I know." She grins. "Rules."

Sparks watches her leave, then dresses and leaves his quarters. He takes the turbolift to the bridge.

"Just in time, commander," Rashid greets him. Avala, seated at the tactical station, gives him a knowing look as he takes the ops station.

Rashid leans back in the command chair. "Ensign Rylek, take us out of warp, and set a course for the planet, three quarters impulse."

"Aye, captain," Rylek replies.

There is a flash of light, and _Icarus_ streaks into view near a blue-green giant with wide rings. It banks toward a small, purple and white orb illuminated on all sides by the bright starlight of the Galactic Core.

The planet grows larger on their viewscreen. "I'm picking up a lot of EM activity on all frequencies," Dr. Sorensen announces from the science station. "It's interfering with our readings on the planet's surface. I'm trying to compensate."

"I'm getting a lot of objects in orbit," Avala reports.

"Objects?" the captain inquires.

"Mostly artificial satellites. It looks like a lot of them are still active." She peers at her readout. "Also there seem to be some super-dense metal spheres at a higher orbit. I can't tell what they are."

Sorensen cocks her head. "That's very strange. I've never seen anything like that occurring naturally."

"Maybe they regulate the orbits of the other satellites," Rashid speculates.

"It's possible." Sorensen taps her console. "Starting to get some sensor readings on the surface of the planet. It's about sixty-five percent ocean coverage. Nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, quite habitable. Most of the land surface appears to be urban. Lots of vegetation, some animal life. Mostly invertebrate, I think, but it's kind of hard to tell. But I'm getting no sign of humanoid life."

"And yet, everything else suggests a functioning civilization," Alomar observes from the environmental station.

"The lights are on but nobody's home," Rashid muses.

"Captain," says Avala, "there's a probe launching from the surface. It's heading toward us."

"Yellow alert. Raise shields." Rashid taps her comm badge. "Pon, do you have the computer countermeasure ready?"

"Yes, sir. I've made a copy of the Iconian program the _Enterprise_ encountered and reprogrammed it to disable the probe's software and isolate our systems. Ready to go on your command."

The ops console beeps. "It's trying to tap into our main computer," Sparks reports.

"Pon, activate the program."

"Aye, captain."

On the viewscreen, a bluish sphere streaks towards them, then turns a dull grey colour and continues past them in a straight line.

"The probe's been disabled, sir," Sparks tells her.

"Avala, get it in a tractor beam; I'd like to take a closer look at it. Rylek, take us in a little closer. Slowly."

The ship moves toward the planet. The yellow-white sun breaks over one planet, and a large green and white continent comes into view.

"Bring us into a high orbit," Rashid tells Rylek. "I'd like to drop some probes into the atmosphere to assess the suitability of sending an away team –"

"Captain, I'm getting a power surge from the planet's surface," Avala tells her, tension in her voice. "Some kind of gravimetric field…"

Suddenly the ship begins to shudder, and the lights on the bridge flicker.

"Warning!" the computer says. "Structural integrity field failing."

"They've created a gravimetric singularity inside the ship!" Sparks announces urgently.

"Get us out of here, Rylek," Rashid orders. "Avala, hail them."

"No response."

Rylek says, "I have insufficient power to break the ship free of the gravitational field."

"Pon! We need more power to engines!"

In Engineering, Pon frantically slams her hand on a console as sparks fall from the ceiling. "Captain, I don't know what the hell this singularity is, but I'm going to have to shut down the warp core before we lose plasma containment."

"Can you remodulate the shields to disrupt the gravimetric field?"

"Our shields are having no effect," she growls. "Gah! It's overloading the EPS relays."

"Warning!" the computer repeats. "Structural integrity failing. The ship will implode in ninety seconds."

"Divert all power to structural integrity!" Rashid shouts as the bridge shudders.

"Main power is offline!" Sparks calls as the bulkheads groan. "I'm diverting auxiliary power!"

Rashid looks around the room. "We're out of options! We need to abandon ship. Everyone to the shuttlebay."

The consoles on the bridge flicker in and out of existence as they rush to the turbolift, and the six of them crowd inside. "Deck 6!" Rashid calls, and the lift descends.

"Captain!" Pon calls over the comm. "I'm going to eject the core and the SIM."

"There's no time, Pon! You need to get to the shuttlebay."

"I just need to do get the SIM drive powered down! If I don't do this, we'll never be able to get home."

"Damn it," Rashid mutters. "Deck 5!"

The turbolift stops. She turns to the crew. "I'm going to help her. Get to the shuttle! We'll use an escape pod and meet you afterwards."

"Captain…" Sparks begins.

"Go!"

She rushes out of the lift into Engineering, where Pon is furiously working at a console next to the warp core. She looks up at Rashid and shouts over the din, "I designed an emergency subroutine for this type of situation. It ejects a module containing all the ship's critical systems, including the matter projectors."

Rashid climbs down a small ladder to the warp core, nearly falling as the ship lurches under the gravitational forces. "Then you're going to use the matter projectors to rebuild the ship from scratch? Is that even possible?"

"Pretty much has to be, doesn't it? But if I don't set a trajectory away from the planet and launch the module at a high enough velocity, it'll get pulled right back into the singularity."

The ship rocks, and a loud groan echoes through its hull as the arrowhead-shaped saucer section begins to implode, crumpling in on itself.

Rashid accesses a control console. "Shit. Structural integrity in the saucer section has failed. The escape pods have been destroyed." She looks up. "Do you still have transporter functionality?"

"Yeah, the matter projectors don't work without it. Why?"

"You and I are going for a spacewalk. I'm setting the coordinates now." There is a loud bang, and the lights flicker again. "Get that trajectory set, then get into an environmental suit!"

"Aye, Captain!" She slaps her palm on the console. "Trajectory set. Launch in forty-five seconds."

She rushes to Rashid, who pulls two environmental suits from a storage locker. They both frantically put on the suits, then Rashid calls out, "Computer! Engage transport program Rashid sigma three."

The ship dissolves around them, and they materialize in space between the ship and the planet. _Icarus_ continues to crumple in on itself, two of the four nacelles twisting towards the centre of the ship as a small module launches from the ship's underbelly away from the planet. Then the ship's stern section collapses, the remaining nacelles breaking from their struts to collide with the crumpled wreck of the saucer section. As they watch, it continues to compact into a roughly spherical shape.

"I guess we know what those metal spheres are now," Rashid says to Pon over the intercom as they drift.

Pon activates her suit's built-in tricorder. "I'm scanning for the shuttle, but there's a lot of interference… wait! There they are!" She rotates and gestures toward the planet, where the sleek shuttlecraft is flying low in the atmosphere, pursued by a pair of small, oval-shaped satellites. Flashes of blue energy streak from the satellites to the shuttle.

"Rashid to _Icarus-1_! Come in, Commander!"

Sparks' response over the intercom is garbled. "…. Good to hear your voice, captain… Under attack… Need to make an emergency landing…"

"Acknowledged, Commander. We're going to make planetfall. Stand by for rendezvous instructions and be careful – the Iconians don't seem too well-disposed towards intruders." To Pon, "Have you ever done an orbital drop, Commander?"

"Never in a suit. Did a _gal'ach_ free jump once though, so this should be a breeze," Pon replies as they use their suits' thrusters to dive toward the planet.

"Is that where they beam you out just before you hit the ground?"

"Sure is. Best done naked, too." The vast purple sea looms below them, interspersed by white clouds, as they enter the upper atmosphere of the planet. "Auto-entry protocols engaged. Looks like we might be going for a swim."

"I'm reading a sub-orbital platform not far from our location. We should try to make landfall on that." A proximity alert sounds in Rashid's helmet, and she looks up to see a pair of satellites approaching them. "Shit. We've got company. Full power to thrusters."

They dive deeper into the planet's atmosphere, and their environmental suits begin to burn, leaving a trail of fire as they streak through the sky. Energy from the satellites crackles around them.

"Tell me, Commander," Rashid shouts over the roar of the atmosphere. "You said you consolidated all of the ship's key systems in that module. Did you put your mud in it?"

Pon's voice crackles over the interference. "I've told you it's very rare mud, right?" she shouts back. "I consider it necessary!"

There is a flash of blue light around Rashid, and an alarm goes off, barely audible over a deafening hiss.

"My suit's been breached!" she calls to Pon. "Shit! AAAAAHHHHH….."

Rashid's suit burns downward toward the ocean as Pon's continues to hurtle toward a white, circular platform topped by green. "Captain!" Pon calls. "CAPTAIN!"

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I realize that there are some similarities between this story and _Star Trek Beyond_ in that it's about a crew stranded on a strange planet after their ship got F-ed up. Similarities should end there, though - there will be no Beastie Boys in this story. Although I do love Beastie Boys. Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think.**

The shuttlecraft plunges into a thick cloud bank which blocks out the bright starlight. Heavy winds buffet the small vessel as the darkness of the storm is punctuated by lightning.

"Steady as she goes, Mr. Rylek!" Sparks calls, clutching his seat tightly as the shuttle is battered by wind. "Any sign of those probes?"

Avala replies, "Sensors are barely cutting through all the EM interference, but it looks like they decided not to follow us into the storm."

"Smart choice!" The ship lurches to starboard and the crew are tossed sideways in their seats. "Do we have enough power to make an emergency landing away from this hurricane?"

"I believe so!" Rylek shouts over the noise. "I have aligned our flight path with the wind stream, and am attempting to slingshot us out from the storm."

"Make it so!" The cabin is illuminated by a flash of lightning striking the hull.

Rylek brings the shuttle into a glide on the furious winds. His brow furrowed, he says, "Bringing us out… now."

Then he banks the ship hard, and it soars out of the edge of the hurricane over a wide green field. In the distance, white dome-shaped structures jut from the sea of green, partially covered by vegetation.

"Sensors are completely jammed!" Avala announces.

"You're going to have to eyeball this landing, Ensign!" Sparks tells Rylek as they glide over the field.

"Understood, sir! Attempting to reduce speed…" The cabin quakes as the braking thrusters fire.

Sorensen looks out a porthole. "I don't think that's solid ground! Looks like a forest canopy to me."

"Acknowledged," Rylek says through gritted teeth. "I recommend bracing yourselves…"

The shuttle cuts a swath through the canopy into a dark forest of green, mushroom-like objects. The shuttle's port wing strikes a thick trunk and is torn off, sending the ship into a rapid spin. It crashes to the ground and slides a long distance, felling a number of the plants in the process. Eventually it strikes a thick trunk and comes to a halt, knocking it partly over.

Rylek opens his eyes, and his ears adjust to the silence. He turns to Avala, and she smiles nervously, her eyes wide. Rylek nods.

"Aaauughhh…"

He turns to see Commander Sparks groaning, pinned in his collapsed seat, a shard of wrecked bulkhead impaling him near his shoulder. He touches it, then examines the blood on his hand, a glazed look on his face.

"Commander!" Rylek and Avala remove their safety harnesses and rush to Sparks' side. Sorensen is looking on in shock, while Alomar opens his medkit and activates a medical tricorder.

"Hold him in place, please," he says to Avala and Rylek. He pulls out a small phaser and adjusts the settings, then fires at the shard of duranium in Sparks' shoulder. It disintegrates, and Sparks slumps backwards.

"It's alright," Avala whispers to him. "You're going to be alright."

Sparks looks up at her. "'Tis but a flesh wound," he wheezes weakly. Sorensen chuckles in spite of herself.

"I see you're also an aficionado of the golden age of absurdist comedy," Alomar says, scanning him with a tricorder. "You may have a concussion, so it's too risky for me to sedate you. So I'm going to give you something for the pain while I treat you. Please try to stay conscious. Have you got any more _Holy Grail_ quotes?"

"'Strange women lying in ponds distributing weapons is no basis for a system of government,'" Sparks recites as Alomar's tricorder projects a circular device onto his chest, which glows white, rapidly regenerating his cellular tissue. Then it projects a pair of nodes onto his temples. "'We demand that you bring us… a shrubbery…'" Sparks' eyes roll up into his head as the nodes glow, then disintegrate. The tricorder fires a red beam at him on a wide spread, and the blood coating his chest vanishes. The uniform mends itself.

"Ugh…" Sparks leans forward, his forehead in his palm.

"How are you feeling?" Alomar asks.

"I've got a splitting headache."

"That's not surprising. You're in fine health, but to be on the safe side, I'd suggest you get some rest."

"No time. We need to contact the captain and Pon." Avala and Rylek help him to his feet. To Rylek, "Excellent flying, Ensign."

"Sir, you were nearly killed!"

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I've been through worse." He hobbles to Sorensen's station. "What's our status?"

"Main power is offline, but the auto-repair unit is engaged. It's operating at 25% efficiency, so we won't have power for another eighteen hours or so. And the entire EM spectrum is completely clogged on this planet, so we can't use sensors or communication beyond a few meters."

"For a dead planet, they sure are sending a lot of signals. Is there any chance we can access their computer network?"

She frowns. "I wouldn't recommend that, sir. Pon's computer countermeasure worked against the probe, but I don't know how much good it would do if we tap into their central network. I think it would overwhelm our systems."

Sparks sits down. "How many tricorders do we have?"

"Four, sir. Plus Dr. Alomar's medkit."

He nods, and rotates his chair to face the crew. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not planning to spend the rest of my life here. The Iconians had gateways which allowed them to travel throughout the galaxy. If we can find one and activate it, we can get back to the Federation. Our objective right now is to find Pon and the captain, and to locate a gateway." He strokes his beard. "Tomas, Susan, I'd like you to come with me. We'll try to get our bearings and see if there's anyone on this planet. Vanda, Rylek, you stay here and oversee repairs on the ship, and see if you can get on the Iconian network. We can isolate a tricorder from our network and try to get access to the planet's computer systems. We might be able to get some information about the captain's whereabouts."

He opens a compartment and pulls out a set of phasers. As he works, Sorensen puts a hand on Rylek's shoulder. "Hey. Good work today."

He turns to the thin blond woman. "Thank you, Susan. It was a very… challenging experience. And it is unfortunate that the shuttle was so severely damaged in the landing."

"Well, we're alive; that's what matters. You should be proud."

"Pride is illogical." He looks into her grey eyes. "Please use caution when on the away mission. This planet appears to be quite hostile."

"Oh, don't worry, I will. It's kind of exciting, though. I haven't been on an away mission since I was on the _Crazy Horse_. You were probably a kid at the time." She smiles. "This is what it's about, though, isn't it? Exploring strange new worlds."

"Indeed."

Alomar sits next to Sparks. "I don't suppose you'll listen to me if I tell you that you should rest."

Sparks looks up. "I appreciate your concern, doctor, but we've got too much to do. We're sitting blind on this planet right now, and the captain could be in danger. I'll be alright." He stands and passes a phaser to Avala. "Hang on to this. If they realize we're alive, they may come after us, and the shuttle's probably the first place they'll look for us."

"I understand."

"And I want you to abandon the shuttle at the first sign of trouble. Without warp capability, it's not much use to us in the long run. Your safety is our priority right now."

"Yes, sir." He turns to leave, but she puts her hand on his arm. "Hey. Be careful." Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, she kisses him quickly on the lips.

He smiles. "Thanks. You too."

Sparks slings a pack over his shoulder and opens the shuttle's airlock. The doors slide aside and he steps out, followed by Sorensen and Alomar. All around them, dark trunks stem up from the ground, branching out into a thick canopy which blocks out almost all sunlight. The purple sky is visible through a trail carved by the shuttle in its descent.

Sorensen examines a tricorder, bringing it close to one of the trunks. "Colonial microvegetation," she announces.

"Mold trees," says Alomar, placing his hand against a stalk. It is soft to touch.

"There's more," Sparks says, pointing his tricorder downward. "Below the topsoil. I'm detecting solid surfaces, various metal alloys." He walks a short distance. "There's wrecked machinery buried under the ground. I think we're standing on top of some kind of landing pad, or a hangar."

Alomar raises an eyebrow and enters a command into his tricorder. "The tricorder projects, based on our previous readings of the weather patterns of this planet, this sort of soil accumulation would have required the area to be abandoned for tens of thousands of years."

"The Iconian Empire was destroyed two hundred thousand years ago. Maybe that's how long it's been abandoned," Sparks speculates.

Sorensen furrows her brow and walks among the mold stalks. "We definitely picked up surface-level cities while we were in orbit."

"Different areas of the planet could have been depopulated at different times," Alomar suggests.

"True, but that doesn't correspond with what we know about the other Iconian worlds. They were destroyed by orbital bombardment. They all died at once," Sorensen replies. "I could do a more thorough analysis if I had access to the labs on _Icarus_."

"We could do a lot if we still had _Icarus_ ," Sparks says gravely.

Alomar sees his expression and nods solemnly. "It's hard to believe, isn't it? She was our home. We were on a mission. And now, she's just… gone."

Sorenson looks skyward. "Pon was trying to launch the core systems when we evacuated. If she succeeded, it's possible we could restore the ship."

Alomar turns to her. "Did you see it? The ship was crushed. Into a ball."

"Well, if she ejected the matter projectors and activated the auto-repair sequence, it's possible she could actually restore the ship."

The doctor looks startled. "Restore it?"

"Well, yeah, I don't really see why not." She looks between Alomar and Sparks. "The schematics of the ship are saved in the main computer, and, I mean, the matter is all still there. In theory, the matter projectors could break it down and re-structure the ship, one piece at a time."

"I had an antique record player in my quarters. I hope it can restore that," Alomar says. "How long would that take?"

"I have no idea."

As they talk, Sparks wanders away, following his tricorder. Soon, the darkness of the canopy gives way to the fading light of the planet's setting sun. Sparks closes his tricorder and steps to the edge of a high cliff overlooking a vast sea of dark green, with massive, moss-covered pieces of starship debris jutting out of the foliage. In the distance, the sun is going down between two weathered dome-shaped structures, under a brilliant violet and green sunset. In the distance, deeper in the forest, a thin wisp of smoke emerges from a short, wide dome, and faint lights dot the low structures around it.

Sorensen and Alomar approach Sparks, gazing at the striking view. Sparks points at the low structures. "There. Do you see the lights and the smoke?" He taps a command into its tricorder, and it projects a set of binoculars over his eyes. "That's definitely artificial lights of some kind." He taps again, and the binoculars disappear. "We'll need to get closer to get a reading, but it could be signs of a functioning society."

"You think there may be living Iconians on this planet?" Alomar asks.

"I don't know about you, but I don't think this planet was hit by orbital bombardment. Something else happened here. Could have been a different kind of weapon." He gazes at the structures in the distance. "Could have just been time."

* * *

 _The hexagonal module containing Icarus' vital systems drifts through the silence of space, lit from all directions by the stars of the Galactic Core._

 _The planet hangs in space ahead of the module. A crescent of the planet is illuminated by its sun, with the rest more dimly lit by the stars. Smaller crescents in the planet's orbit reflect the sun's light._

 _The module's thrusters perform a micro-adjustment, and it floats toward one of the small crescents. Then its thrusters fire again, and it sits still, positioned a wary distance from the planet._

 _Its scanners perform a sweep of the nearby space. They focus on a small piece of metal debris nearby, a long-discarded remnant of an ancient space flight. The module's transporters activate, and the piece of debris dematerializes in a blue-white shimmer._

 _Thrusters fire once again, and the module sails toward a metal sphere lit by the yellow-white light of the sun. The module's matter projectors activate, and a small metal instrument materializes in a port on the module, made of repurposed matter from the debris._

 _Still giving the planet a wide berth, the module positions itself near the metal sphere. The planet passes between the sun and the sphere, casting the module into semi-darkness, lit only by the stars._

 _The module rotates, and its new instrument fires a grappling cable at the sphere, which lodges itself into an outer layer of duranium silently. Then the module's thrusters activate at full power and it continues away from the planet. The cable stretches taut behind it, and the metal sphere swings slowly in an arc behind the module, away from the planet._

 _The module cuts its thrusters, and the cable begins to retract as the sphere and the module rotate around each other, drifting slowly away from the planet as if in a waltz. The transporters activate and beam a first piece of duranium off of the sphere, rematerializing it as a piece of structural frame attached to the module._

 _Where the outer layer of the sphere was beamed away, an inner layer is visible – a twisted piece of hull plating bearing the name_ USS Icarus, NCC-101352 _._

* * *

"Good morning, Zia."

Rashid opens her eyes to a blur of white and purple light. She blinks, and her surroundings begin to come into focus. She is in an oval-shaped room approximately the size of the _Icarus_ bridge, illuminated by three floating spheres casting light of different shades. The room is furnished by trapezoidal objects of various sizes, and she lays on a soft, flat bed. One side of the room appears to be open to a view of the dark purple sea, with the sun descending on the horizon in the distance.

A tall humanoid alien stands above her. His skin is a pale grey, nearly white, and where his hairline would be, there are five tentacles, approximately half a meter in length, tied behind his head. His black, almond-shaped eyes are large compared to his face, and he has a strong jawline. "What can I do for you today?"

Rashid sits bolt upright and looks around. "Where am I? I was doing an orbital drop… and my suit was breached…"

"You are safe now. There is no need to worry."

She looks at the alien, eyes wide. "Oh my God. Was I dead?"

The alien cocks his head to one side. "That depends on what you mean when you say 'dead.'"

She peers at him for a moment. Then, "I'm sorry. I'm Captain Zia Rashid, of the United Federation of Planets. My ship was here on a mission of exploration."

"Yes, I know. _Icarus_ was destroyed by the orbital defence system. And I am familiar with your mission. I was created based on your cognitive data. My name is Zey-Ar, and I am here to help you."

"Created based on my cognitive data…? Are you a computer program?"

"Yes, in a sense. I am a synthetic entity. My purpose is to assist organic lifeforms. I determined that you were in danger, and I rescued you."

"Well, I appreciate that." She looks at her hands. "I certainly don't feel like I was dead."

"Death is the end of organic life. Your vital systems are functioning. You are conscious. Your organic life has not ended."

"Was I, though? If my suit was breached, I would have decompressed while burning to death…"

"Based on your cognitive data, I believe you would be happier if we do not discuss the precise details of your rescue."

She stares at Zey-Ar. "Pon. What happened to her? Did she make it?"

"Commander Pon is here. She landed on the platform unharmed, and has been very anxious to see you. But I felt that to see the commander immediately upon regaining consciousness would be overwhelming for you."

Rashid smiles in spite of herself. "Well, you might have actually been right about that. But I'd like to see her, if I can."

"Of course." He turns to the door, which slides open. An identical copy of Zey-Ar leads Pon into the room, saying, "Captain Rashid would like to speak to you."

The copy vanishes, and Pon eyes the captain from across the room. "Heyyy," she says slowly. "You feeling alright?"

Rashid sits on the edge of the bed, noticing her fully intact Starfleet uniform for the first time. "Yeah, I feel fine, actually. Mostly. It's a bit hard to describe. How are you?"

"Oh, you know. Back pain, reproductive system slowly drying up. The usual." She pulls a tricorder from her hip and scans Rashid.

She glances at the instrument. "What does it say?"

"It says you're you. Which is good."

"That is good."

Zey-Ar steps back. "Perhaps you wish to speak privately. I will leave you alone. Can I bring you anything, Zia?"

"Actually, some food would be great. I'm really hungry."

"I will bring that for you."

"Bring me something, too," Pon tells the entity.

"Yes, Pon." Zey-Ar vanishes.

Rashid stands up and looks around. "What is this place?"

"I've been wandering around it for the last seven hours. It looks like some kind of luxury estate, as near as I can tell. The technology is very advanced. It's Iconian, though, for sure."

"Did you encounter any sign of inhabitants?"

"None. I can't even tell if anyone's ever been here. But then, the systems are still functioning, and they seem to keep this place pretty clean. Someone could have been here yesterday and we might not know."

Rashid looks around. "If the technology is still operational, that means that someone must have been living here at least somewhat recently."

"Not necessarily. This platform runs entirely on solar and wind power. Renewable sources. It's conceivable that it could continue to operate indefinitely."

She narrows her eyes. "What about Zey-Ar? Did he appear to you?"

Pon's sunken eyes dart nervously around the room. "Actually, there was a different one that appeared to me when I landed. Said he was a synthetic program based on my cognitive data. And he looked like Zaal Ch'Poth."

"The Tellarite pop singer?"

"Yeah." She coughs nervously. "So… I shot him."

"What? Pon!"

"He said he was a synthetic program! And, really, do you want a creature that handsome running around which was created based on my cognitive information?"

"We're talking about potentially a sentient being…"

"Look," she says, "I don't get the sense that I actually killed it. It's like a hologram. I think I just sent the message that I wanted to be left alone, and the systems seemed happy to accommodate me."

"Alright, well, we should be careful until we have a better idea of what we're dealing with here." She looks at the door, then back to Pon. "So you're saying that Zey-Ar's appearance is based on my psychological information?"

"Yeah. And I'd say he's very good-looking, but honestly he just kind of looks mostly like a human to me. I can barely tell your males and females apart, to be honest." She furrows her brow. "But, come to think of it, he kind of reminded me of Commander Sparks a bit."

"What? No. They don't look anything alike. That's ridiculous."

"If you say so."

Rashid looks out the window at the sea. "We need to figure out how to contact the crew."

Pon nods. "Yeah. And we need to access the ship's computer. If the module got away from the singularity, it'll start rebuilding the ship, and once it does, it will come searching for us."

Rashid smiles slightly. "That's right. I remember you telling me that in the event we abandon ship, she's programmed to retrieve us at as soon as practical. But do you think she'd come after us while the orbital defences are still online?"

Pon shrugs. "I'm actually not sure what the computer will do in this situation. It might have the _prangs_ to come try to rescue us. But I don't think I like its chances going head to head with all this advanced Iconian shit." She scowls. "Actually, on that point, we'd better be careful about _how_ we access the computer. I don't want to expose it to Iconian technology any more than absolutely necessary, in case it finds a way to override my countermeasures and _gnarf_ up our systems."

"Maybe we should ask Zey-Ar if there's anything we can use here to locate the crew. A sensor relay, maybe."

There is a soothing, synthesized tone, and Zey-Ar appears behind them, holding a tray of sushi and a grey, spiny tube. "I'm sorry, Zia, but I can't help you with that." He holds up the tray. "But I have prepared some food. It's based on the last thing you ate, based on our bioscans."

Rashid eyes him. "Is that sushi? And howl-fungus?"

"It is."

She steps forward. Pon puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers, "Captain, we should ask it about…"

Rashid seizes Pon's arm and interrupts her, whispering, "Listen. I don't think I have ever been as hungry in my entire life as I am right now. We eat now. We ask questions later. That's an order, Commander."

Pon releases her grip as Rashid strides towards the entity. "You even brought chopsticks! Thanks, Zey-Ar."

"Yes, sir," the Tellarite mutters.

* * *

"You know," says Avala as she tinkers with a tricorder in the cabin of the wrecked shuttle, "I think the real reason they left us here while they go off exploring the planet, is as punishment for you wrecking the shuttle."

Rylek looks up from his console and stares at her. "I had not considered that possibility. I had thought that it was logical that they would survey our surroundings, because of their scientific expertise. But I find humans difficult to read. Do you really think they are unsatisfied with my performance as pilot?"

She smirks, glancing at him. "No, Rylek, I'm just messing with you. You did great. You saved all our lives. They know that."

"Ah. I see. It is reassuring to hear that."

Her antennae continue to point towards him as she focuses on the tricorder again. "We haven't really hung out lately."

"Unfortunately not." He raises an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you have been busy."

"Yeah. Well, you too, I guess."

They continue to work in silence, not making eye contact. Then Rylek turns to her again. After a moment, he asks, "Are you having any success in configuring the tricorder to interface with the Iconian computer network?"

"Working on it. There's something else I wanted to try first." The tricorder beeps, and she smiles. "Excellent. Let's see if this works." She taps a button. " _Icarus-1_ to Commander Sparks. Come in, Commander Sparks."

"Avala?" comes Sparks' voice, clipped and distorted. "Is that you? How are you contacting us?"

"Thought I'd try something well-loved by human and Andorian alike," she grins. "Old-fashioned radio."

"Nice work, Lieutenant! I'm surprised the radio frequencies aren't jammed on this planet like the rest of the EM spectrum."

"Me too! I suppose it makes sense, if you think about it. We're not on the Iconian homeworld; maybe radio was already obsolete for them when they settled this planet, and they didn't feel the need to bother with super-low-frequency EM communication."

"Good thinking! Can you extend the range and try to contact Captain Rashid?"

"I'll try. But we seem to be in a pretty desolate part of this planet. The interference might be worse in some of the more urbanized areas, if that's where they are."

"Understood. Give it a shot, but don't waste too much time on it; getting onto their network might be more helpful to us."

"Aye, sir."

"Keep me posted, Vanda. Sparks out."

They work in silence for a moment, then Avala says, "There. Their combadges should pick this up if they're in range. Once the main power's back online, I'll be able to boost the signal some more."

Rylek nods. "I do hope their landfall was successful. However, the odds that they did not survive entry into the atmosphere are troubling."

She waves her hand. "Captain Rashid is a survivor. She survived that whole temporal displacement thing. She's a tough lady. And Pon? The atmosphere probably saw her coming and got out of the way."

He cocks his head. "An amusing characterization."

Avala shakes her head. "Come on, why don't we do this from outside. You can help me access their network; staring at the auto-repair isn't going to make it go any faster. And it's getting really stuffy in here."

"As you wish, Lieutenant."

She smirks, and stands and activates the airlock. They walk outside into the cool evening and sit on the edge of the shuttle's remaining wing. They activate another tricorder and disconnect it from the shuttle's computer network.

"I find myself constantly re-assessing the events that led to _Icarus_ ' destruction," he remarks as they work, "and questioning whether there was something I could have done differently."

She puts her hand on his shoulder. "Aren't you the one who constantly told me that my insecurity was illogical during exam season? Same goes for you. We just lost the ship and you took us through a pretty rough landing. It's okay to be a bit shaken." She smiles at him. "It's going to be alright. We're Starfleet officers. We're marooned on a planet. It happens all the time. We'll find one of those gateways and get out of here."

"I find your confidence in me to be most gratifying, Vanda," he says earnestly.

Her antennae perk up. "What's that? Do you hear that?"

He listens for a moment, then points the tricorder into the clearing. "There is a subspace rift forming in that area."

"Shit." Avala stares at the clearing, illuminated by the dying light of the sun, and draws her phaser. She activates the radio-configured tricorder. "Avala to Sparks. We've got some kind of localized subspace anomaly forming near our position. I think it might be one of those gateways you were talking about."

"You should both get out of there," his voice crackles. "Take whatever equipment you can and leave the shuttle. We'll come back for it later."

"Understood." She turns to Rylek. "Grab a ration pack. I'll set the tricorder to emit a dampening field around us."

Rylek nods and disappears into the shuttle. There is an unnatural shimmering, and a pair of bluish orbs flash into being and hover amid the foliage. Avala takes cover behind the shuttle's wing, her phaser trained on them. "Rylek, let's go."

The orbs begin to float toward the shuttle. Avala calls in a loud whisper, "Shit! Rylek, watch out…"

He emerges from the airlock to see the two globes hovering before him. His eyes widen and he reaches for his phaser.

"Attention unauthorized alien," comes a synthesized voice from one of the orbs. "You have unlawfully entered Iconian territory. You will be detained and processed."

"Greet… greetings…" Rylek stammers, pointing the phaser at them with a shaking hand. "My… my name is Ensign Rylek, of the United Federation of Planets…"

A white bolt strikes Rylek, and he drops his phaser and ration pack. He staggers backwards, then is lifted into the air by an unseen force, floating limply, his eyes rolled back into his head. One of the spheres flies back into the shimmering anomaly. The other floats into the shuttle.

"Isaiah," Avala hisses into the radio unit, "Two probes just appeared, and one of them took Rylek through the gateway. But it's still open! I'm moving to engage."

As she creeps around the wing towards the rift, Sparks' voice replies, "Negative! Do not go through that gateway. We have no idea what's on the other side. Regroup with us and we'll figure out how to get Rylek back."

Keeping her phaser trained on the airlock, she runs across the twilit clearing. Sparks' voice crackles through the tricorder. "Avala! Talk to me. What's happening?"

"I can't let them take him!" she replies. "The gateway's going to close and then who knows what will happen. I know I can get him."

"Lieutenant, I am giving you a direct order! Do not go through that gateway!"

She glances at the gateway, then back at the shuttle. The sphere re-emerges and fires a bolt of energy, and she dives to one side to avoid it. "Shit. Sorry, Commander! I've got to get him back."

"Avala! Listen to me! Avala!" His shouting causes the radio signal to distort as she sprints across the clearing and dives into the rift.

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. Chapter 3

"What really inflames my _prangs_ is this," Pon says to Rashid as they sit at a table near the window overlooking the sea. She swallows a bite of howl-fungus. "The Iconian computer system. I just don't _gnarfing_ understand it and it's pissing me off." She leans forward. "Captain?"

"Hm?" Rashid is staring out at the starlit ocean. "Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking. I… I just don't understand how I survived my suit breaching. I was so sure I was going to die."

Pon waves her hand. "You've seen the kind of technology they have here. Would have been easy for them to beam you out in the nick of time. I wouldn't worry about it. We should focus on the task at hand."

"You're right," she says, massaging her temples. "What were you saying?"

"The Iconian computers. Specifically, how I hate them."

"How so?" Rashid asks.

"Alright, so when I told you I developed a countermeasure to their computer weapon by making a copy of the one that attacked the _Enterprise_ _-D,_ I meant that literally. I actually dug up an old memory cache from the _Enterprise_ in the _Icarus_ archive banks and there was a copy of the Iconian program in there."

"If you don't understand their software, how did you reprogram it? Your countermeasure seemed pretty effective to me." She eats a maki roll.

Pon tears off another slab of fungus with her teeth and chews it. "See, that's just it. The program seemed extremely simple to me. Too simple. It was pretty much just 'attack.' And it would just insert itself into a computer system and start attacking programs more or less at random. Rewriting them."

Rashid sets her chopsticks down and steeples her fingers. "Rewriting them as what?"

"I couldn't even tell you. It _gnarfed_ them up, though. That much I know." The Tellarite throws up her hands. "So it seemed to act at random, in a sort of probabilistic way, and I found that if I altered the parameters a bit – through sheer trial and error, I might add – I got it to prefer to attack copies of itself to our systems, and it basically destroyed itself."

Rashid looks intent. "It's almost like we're only perceiving one aspect of their computer system. As if there are whole dimensions that we aren't able to see."

"And that our systems can't handle. It would have had to simplify itself considerably to invade our computer."

"What surprises me is the probe," Rashid says. "I get that you could disable the invasive program in our network. But you were able to turn it back on the probe and disable it too."

Pon shakes her head. "Honestly, I had no idea whether that was going to work. I was just counting on the probe's software infrastructure acting like most other old, heavily used technology I've ever worked with – it gets temperamental and doesn't respond well to change."

Rashid looks over her shoulder at the empty room. "Our friend Zey-Ar seems to be coping well enough."

"Well, I think Zey-Ar's a little more sophisticated than that attack probe. He'd have to be. He's programmed for high-level interaction with sentient social organisms."

"Do you think that's why the planet's defence systems attacked us on sight, but he didn't?"

"What's the old human saying?" Pon asks. "'When you're a hammer, everything looks like a nail.'"

Rashid smiles. "That's not it exactly, but I see what you're saying. But do you think it's just a sophisticated simulation of social interaction? Or do you think Zey-Ar could be sentient?"

"Is there really a difference?" Pon shrugs. "Besides, anything will become sentient if you leave it on long enough."

"I thought you just said computer systems get temperamental and resistant to change?"

She grins, baring her teeth. "Yes, exactly."

"If he is sentient, we could be looking at a functioning culture on this planet. _Icarus_ might be gone, but we still have our mission to initiate peaceful contact with any civilizations we discover in the Core, and I intend to carry it out." She stands and tugs her uniform down. "And I'd like to take a look around this place for myself. Zey-Ar?"

The soothing tone sounds, and Zey-Ar appears. "Did you enjoy your meal, Zia?"

"Yes, thank you. It was very good, actually. I don't think I've ever been that hungry." She steps toward the entity. "I'd like to see more of this structure. Can you show me?"

"I would be happy to. Please, come with me."

Rashid turns to Pon. She watches with interest as the dishes disintegrate, then stands and follows Zey-Ar and Rashid out the door.

"What can you tell me about where we are?" Rashid asks, walking beside Zey-Ar down a hallway. The walls are white and adorned with screens which show what appears to be paintings moving in time with soft alien music.

"You are aboard 45 Exai, which is one of the finest habitats on Terminus."

"Terminus? Is that the name of this planet?"

Zey-Ar nods. "Yes. Terminus was once a part of the Iconian Empire. When the Empire fell, Terminus became one of the last enclaves of the Iconian people. Because of its location in the Galactic Centre, it was beyond the reach of Iconia's enemies."

"Fascinating. Are there any Iconians living on the planet?"

"As far as I know, there have not been any Iconians alive for over one hundred and twenty five thousand of your years." They reach an open lift in a transparent cylinder. "This way, please."

"What happened to them?" Pon asks, standing next to Rashid in the lift as they begin to ascend.

He pauses for a moment, as if considering the question. "That is difficult to answer. Their population had been in decline for millennia. Eventually it dropped below sustainable levels."

"They died out," Rashid comments.

"I cannot say for certain. But there are no living Iconians known to my network."

The lift emerges from the tube onto a wide terrace that is open to the cool night air. The sky above is densely packed with stars. Coral-like organisms of varying colours and heights divide different sections of the terrace, and evenly spaced around the area are large domes which glow a pale green.

Zey-Ar gestures in front of them, and three chairs appear, made of a featureless white material and hovering above the ground.

He sits, and Rashid and Pon sit next to him. The seats float into the air, and Rashid grips her seat tightly while Pon looks down and grunts.

"Do not be alarmed," Zey-Ar reassures them, "it is quite safe. The seat will not allow you to fall."

Rashid looks down at an illuminated pool surrounded by reclining seats. "It's quite beautiful."

"This habitat belonged to the Sy'ar clan, one of the most influential families on Terminus. Versions of me cared for them for hundreds of generations."

"Versions of you? What do you mean?"

They drift over what appears to be a sports field, with semi-transparent lines visible at regular intervals around the field, floating approximately a meter above the moss-covered ground. Zey-Ar says, "I am a Nal Th-Zan companion program, generated based on your cognitive data by the 45 Exai central computer. There have been many other such programs generated over the millennia for members of the Sy'ar clan."

"And those programs were also you?"

"In some senses, yes. I possess their memories. But because my behavioural subroutines are different, I will respond differently to stimuli than they did."

"That's really interesting."

Zey-Ar lands on the mossy turf next to one of the domes, and Rashid and Pon follow. "Come with me."

He steps through the pale green barrier. The officers follow suit, passing through the barrier as if it was not there. Then they are inside the _Icarus_ crew lounge, with a tub of mud projected in the centre of the room. The stench of the mud fills the air.

Rashid runs her hand on the surface of a table as Pon opens her tricorder. "Is this matter projector technology?" the captain asks.

"There is some similarity in principle," Zey-Ar explains. "In this chamber, the environment can be controlled telepathically. Because you are unaccustomed to our technology, it would be dangerous for you to use it. So I have created an environment which I thought would be comforting to both of you."

Pon dips her hand in the mud, then puts her hand to her face and sniffs. "I don't like it."

Zey-Ar regards her curiously. "It was created based on your cognitive patterns. Your sensory response is identical to your previous experiences of the mud."

"Doesn't matter. It's not Gargva Valley mud."

"Zey-Ar," Rashid says, "can you recreate any of _Icarus_ ' equipment? Sensors, transporters?"

"I'm sorry, Zia. Access to the designs for functioning equipment of that type requires Currency."

"Currency? You use money?" Pon asks, incredulous.

"Yes. All equipment purchases require Currency of fifteen million or more. Unfortunately, you have zero Currency."

Pon rolls her eyes. "Don't you realize what an inefficient means that is for organizing your society? Here I thought the Iconians were an advanced civilization, and yet you hang on to primitive ideas like money."

"Currency has been used in the Iconian Empire for hundreds of thousands of years," Zey-Ar replies, his face neutral.

"Yeah, well maybe that's why –"

"Zey-Ar," Rashid interrupts her, "We need to try to contact our crew. They may be in danger. Is there anything you can do to help us?"

He looks straight ahead for a moment, then turns back to her. "There is no record on any of any other arrivals from offworld. However, it is possible that they were intercepted by military technology. I cannot access military networks."

She strokes her chin. "Is there any way we can earn some Currency?"

"Yeah, maybe we can find some shiny rocks or something," Pon mutters.

"Currency would be provided to you if you were Iconian," he says. "Currency can only be provided to aliens by Iconians."

"And all the Iconians are dead," Pon says, "while their money is sitting around in the money… place…"

"The bank," Rashid interjects.

"…in the bank, rendering completely inaccessible the technology we could use to easily solve our problems. Capitalism!"

"This is the way our systems have been designed," Zey-Ar replies, shrugging his broad shoulders. "It is not within my power to change."

Rashid looks around. "What about this place? You allowed us here, and gave us food and medical care. Doesn't that cost anything?"

He stares at her for several seconds. "I am a companion. My function is to care for organics. Ordinarily there would be a fee, but I have chosen to waive it."

She narrows her eyes. "Why?"

He looks through a porthole at the simulated starscape outside the _Icarus_ lounge. "Because I wish to fulfill my function once again. The Iconians died under the care of the companions. We failed them. I failed them." He looks into her eyes. "But I will not fail you, Zia."

* * *

In a featureless white cylindrical chamber with no exits, Rylek sits in meditation. His hair is ruffled and his skin is pale, and he is clad in a jumpsuit which is an unpleasant shade of beige.

He opens his eyes as the room begins to hum. Then there is a flash, and Avala appears in mid-air and is thrown to the floor. She is wearing the same style of jumpsuit as Rylek, and there is anger in her eyes.

" _Ai p'thiir krythilia t'aar!_ " she shouts in Andorian, shaking her fist at the air where she emerged. " _Th'a'iik! P'uila th'tanii!_ "

Rylek's green eyes widen. "Vanda! _T'ish komaht val_."

"Ugh. Those _th'pal'aii_ even took our translators," Avala says, switching languages. "Hope your Federation Standard isn't too rusty."

"All Vulcans are taught to be fully bilingual from a young age. I am fluent." He hesitates. "Mostly."

She sits up and smiles. "Your accent is so cute."

"Vanda, what are you doing here? Did the Iconian drones capture you as well?"

She wraps her arms around her knees and leans her back against a wall, facing him. "Yeah. Well, actually, I came after you. Through the portal. There were a bunch of those orbs on the other side. I guess they stunned me, because the next thing I remember is being in this chamber a lot like this one. Being… processed. They took my equipment, my uniform…" She winces. "And they probed my mind. It was awful. It felt like hours."

Rylek nods. "I had a similar experience. It was most unsettling."

She holds her forehead in her palm, and her antennae droop. "Isaiah is going to kill me. I disobeyed a direct order not to go after you."

"Although I appreciate your intent, the commander was right. Attempting to rescue me on your own was highly illogical."

She glares at him. "You think I don't know that? I don't need you to lecture me, _ensign_."

Rylek's eyes widen. "I meant no offense. I was merely observing that –"

"Why don't you keep your observations to yourself," she snaps. "I made a bad call. I screwed up. Now we're here. And we have to figure out what our next move is going to be."

"Yes, lieutenant," Rylek says quietly.

They sit in silence for several minutes. Then Avala begins to examine the wall, her antennae close to the smooth surface.

In a low voice, Rylek says, "I did not discover any sign of a point of egress."

She looks over her shoulder at him, then scans the cylindrical cell. "There's got to be a door or something."

He stares at her and swallows. "They… they have the gateways. They do not need doors."

She scowls. "Well, what else would you suggest…" The pauses, glancing around at the featureless white walls enclosing them. Then she shrugs and sits back down, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Rylek sits across from her, clutching his knees tightly, his face pale. He lists to one side, breathing heavily. Then, shuddering, he slumps over.

"Rylek!" Avala rushes to his side.

"I…" he gasps. "I believe I am having a panic attack…"

"Here," she says, helping him lie on his back, "come on, it's going to be alright. We're going to get out of here. Don't you have Vulcan breathing techniques or something?"

"It… it is happening again… Like the _Crazy Horse…_ "

She takes his hands. "The _Crazy Horse_? What are you talking about?"

He looks into her eyes, struggling to control his breathing. "It… it was Susan. It is her memory. She was on a survey mission near the Core… her ship was attacked by Romulans…" He swallows. "I was taken hostage…"

"Rylek, it's okay." She puts his head in her lap and brushes his hair into place. "That wasn't your memory. There are no Romulans here. In fact, I don't know if there's anybody. I don't know about you, but everything I encountered was automated."

His breathing slows. "You believe that the Iconians are extinct, despite all the functional technology we have encountered?"

"Well, why not? I've read about ghost worlds; they're not actually that uncommon. It's just that they're usually picked pretty clean by scavengers before we get to them."

Rylek turns his eyes downward. "Then it may be illogical to expect we will be released."

"No, no, no," she says softly. "Isaiah's still looking for us. And Captain Rashid. They won't leave without us."

"I do hope so."

She strokes his head. "So did the mind meld give Susan all of your memories too?"

"Some," he says weakly. "To what extent, I am not certain."

"Do you think she remembers the time we went to Risa on spring break? The night we all went skinny-dipping in the Pearl Atoll?"

He looks up at her. "Perhaps."

"You wouldn't take your clothes off." She strokes his head. "But you did the other day in Pon's mud. I'm proud of you. You're becoming more comfortable around people."

"I appreciate that. The captain has been encouraging me to be more social. She has taken a more active role in mentoring me since her temporal displacement." He relaxes slightly.

"Yeah, she really seems like she's been glad to be around us lately. We were supposed to get together next time we were both off duty. She wanted to smoke this Terran herb and listen to music."

There is a loud klaxon. Avala's antennae stand on end and Rylek bolts upright as a deep voice begins speaking loudly in an alien language.

"What are you saying?" Avala demands, climbing to her feet. "We can't understand you! Give us back our translators!"

The voice delivers a short reply. A shimmering plane appears in the air and passes through both of them.

Suddenly they are in a different place, on the side of a well-maintained roadway between impossibly tall, domed buildings. They are smooth and white, and have no windows. The road is a smooth grey material interspersed with well-trimmed fungi and coral-like organisms, and they stretch as far as the eye can see in both directions, pleasant but featureless, intersected by other roads in a neat grid. The sun is shining brightly, and it is completely silent.

Rylek stands. "Our situation has improved."

A blue orb shimmers into existence and begins speaking loudly at them. Avala steps toward it. "I already told you – we don't understand what you're saying!" She over-enunciates her words. "Give us back our translators!"

The orb hovers a few meters above them, saying nothing. Avala shrugs, frustrated. "Come on," she says to Rylek, "let's see if we can find a replicator or something. I'm thirsty."

She takes a step, and is met by a cluster of soft chiming sounds. Several translucent alien figures in bright, garish neon colours appear in the air before them down the road. They are pale, with dark, almond-like eyes and tentacles tied behind their heads. Some of them are drinking liquids from cups and gesturing in different directions, speaking soundlessly as angular alien symbols scroll vertically beside them. A few are naked and wrapped around each other, thrusting forcefully, their tentacles entwined.

Avala regards the projections warily. A pair of copulating aliens stop and turn to her, one retracting a long, dark blue tongue from down the other's throat. The one with the tongue takes a drink from a black cylinder, and the other points down one of the roads.

"What do you make of this?" Rylek asks, visibly uncomfortable.

"I think we're looking at an advertisement," she replies, cautiously walking forward.

"An advertisement?"

"Yeah. Don't they have ads on Vulcan?"

"They do," he says, following close behind her. "But they rely on logical persuasion."

"These ones really catch the eye, though, don't they?" She turns around, then scowls as she sees the sphere floating behind them. "What do you want?" she snaps at it.

The sphere says nothing. She glances back at Rylek, then shrugs. "Well, anyway, let's go."

As they walk, Rylek looks down the long, straight avenues they pass, then cranes his neck at the buildings. "None of these structures have doors or windows."

"No need for them, I guess," Avala says as they round the corner. More alien holograms appear before them, drinking fluids and gesturing, some copulating in pairs or groups of three. In the distance, there is a space between the buildings where dark green vegetation can be seen.

"I wonder if that's a park," she muses as she follows the gesture of one of the holograms to the side of a building. The flat white wall glows yellow, and a shelf appears holding approximately a dozen cylinders of different colours.

She steps toward it, and holographic symbols materialize before her. She steps backwards, to Rylek's side.

"What do you think that is?" she asks.

"I am not certain."

She reaches for one of the cylinders. Her hand makes contact with a forcefield, and she pulls it back quickly. "Ow! _A'vai'iil!_ "

The sphere says something to her, seemingly angrily. "Screw you," she snaps back.

"Are you alright, Vanda?" Rylek asks.

"Yeah." She shakes her numb hand. "But why would they tell me to come here and then not let me have one?"

"Perhaps the symbol was the cost?"

"Well, that's stupid. Why would they advertise something that costs money?" She glares at the cylinders. "Let's go to that park. Maybe there's some water there. Are you thirsty?"

They walk together towards the green foliage. "I will not require water for several weeks," he replies. "Vulcan physiology is highly retentive of water."

"Hang on." She steps close to him as they walk side by side, and asks in a conspiratorial whisper, "Do you not piss?"

Rylek hesitates. "Vulcans only urinate once or twice a year."

She puts a hand on his shoulder, an expression of joy on her face. "How did I not know this?"

He raises an eyebrow. "It has never been relevant to conversation."

They reach the edge of a large park, thick with mossy green shapes. A waterfall can be heard within the greenery.

"Alright, well let's try –" Avala begins, reaching her hand forward and colliding with another forcefield. "Ah! What the shit!"

" _Ch-Thanoth Aikonai!_ " the sphere barks. Avala lets loose a tirade of Andorian profanity at it, and it drifts higher into the air away from her.

"It appears that our access to this city is severely limited," Rylek observes.

"Yeah, I noticed," Avala says, trying to restore feeling to her hand. "And unlike you, I'm going to need to get some water within the next day or two. I don't want to die on this _p'thaii_ planet."

"Perhaps we should continue to explore our surroundings. We may be able to find somewhere more… hospitable." There are more holographic aliens around them now, gesturing and writhing in alien coital configurations.

"Yeah. And I'd really like to try to contact Isaiah." She looks down three roadways, each identical to the others. "Any ideas on which way to go?"

"None."

"Well, let's just keep going, I guess." She continues past the park, Rylek close behind, with the sphere floating at a distance.

Her antennae point to Rylek. "I'm glad you're here."

"And I you, Vanda."

They continue, surrounded by featureless buildings once again, down the well-kept city road stretching into the silent, hazy distance.


	4. Chapter 4

"By the glow of the Heavenscape, with the Lost Widow before us and the Returning Hero at our right hand,

We pass through this world of illusion.

O sacred Aeon, the Living Objectivity, we are guided by the light of your truth."

Two humanoid beings journey through the starlit forest. They are pale, with large eyes and four tentacles tied behind their heads. They wear simple black robes and carry hiking sticks. One appears to be approximately male, the other female. They are singing in their language as they walk:

"Guide us past seven baleful sisters, in the direction of Mount Zar-ee where Shai Kesh sat in contemplation." They walk past a copse of seven fungal trees, bowing toward a distant mountain visible against the night sky through a break in the canopy.

"Abide with us as we journey through the shadow of the Fallen Engine,

Which once propelled a space-ark of the Blind Ancestors

When they fought the alien hordes."

A massive piece of space debris looms over them, overgrown with lichens and moss. "And abide with us on our inner journey beyond illusion, towards the True Knowledge."

The male turns to the female. "Do you think the aliens survived the crash, Ctai?"

"The Elder Mathematicians believed it was probable," she replies. "They do not err in their calculations. But I fear that the Apparatus may have taken them, Ixu."

"The Chronicle tells of aliens who survived for nearly two cycles beyond its reach. If the Aeon wills it, we will find them."

They reach a wide metal post which reaches high above their heads, holding up a thick coil which stretches in both directions. Ctai and Ixu begin singing again.

"We follow the path of the conduits which powered the false reality of the Blind Ancients.

We thank the Aeon that it functions no more,

And listen to the deep silence in which your truth expresses itself."

Ctai turns to Ixu. "I calculate that we will find the aliens before the thirty-fourth canto, depending on how fast they move."

"I worry that they will be hostile."

"Perhaps. But they are sentient life, and we must protect them from the Apparatus."

He bows his head. "Through compassion, we deepen our knowledge."

They continue to walk and sing, their voices harmonizing in dissonant intervals. After a time, Ixu holds up his hand and they both stop moving and crouch near the edge of a cliff overlooking a straight trench, perhaps twenty five meters deep and three hundred meters wide. Below them are Sparks, Sorensen, and Alomar.

"I just can't believe she'd disobey a direct order like that," Sparks is saying.

Alomar replies, "I read her personnel file once – I was curious why she made lieutenant junior grade so quickly. Her previous commander spoke of Vanda's ability to act decisively under pressure in her recommendation. Don't mistake me; there is no excuse for what she did."

"You have to remember how close she and Rylek are as well," Sorensen adds.

"I understand that. But if she can't understand the importance of the chain of command, she doesn't belong in Starfleet." Sparks' jaw is tight. "It's interesting. The only times I've ever encountered problems with discipline are in very small crews, or very large crews."

Sorensen's tricorder beeps and they stop. She holds it high, watching its screen. "I can't tell for sure, but I think a gateway might have opened nearby. We should be ready."

Sparks draws his phaser. "Try to isolate them from their central network. We might be able to use Pon's program against them."

"Aye, sir." They take cover behind a fallen trunk, phasers ready, as Sorensen modulates her tricorder.

In the sky above them, a gateway shimmers into being and three blue spheres materialize from it. They fly down towards the humans.

Ctai says to Ixu, "The Apparatus has found them. We must help them."

Ixu removes his outer cloak. There is a rope wrapped around his tunic, and he removes it. They tie an end around the trunk of a fungal tree and throw the rope down the edge of the trench.

The spheres home in on the officers' location. Sparks fires his phaser at one of them, but the energy is absorbed by the orb's shield.

He and Alomar remodulate their phasers and fire again, but the spheres dart quickly through the canopy.

"Have you got it yet?" Sparks asks Sorensen, his voice tense.

"I'm projecting a dampening field, but the range isn't much." They duck as a burst of white energy nearly misses Alomar.

"Almost…" she says slowly. The tricorder beeps, and a sphere approaches them and suddenly goes dark, bouncing off a thick fungal stalk. "There! Got one."

Sparks looks up urgently. "We need to move, now!"

Keeping low, they move away from their position as the two remaining spheres rain energy bolts in their direction from the canopy. One of the spheres hovers over the fallen one, and it reactivates, levitating into the air.

Ixu and Ctai approach the exchange. "We must recite the Seventeenth Incantation of the Blind Ancestors," he says.

"I understand," she replies. "Let us go quickly."

They run through the fungal stalks in the direction of the spheres. Suddenly, Sorensen emerges from behind a large stalk, her head low, and nearly collides with Ctai, who grabs her by the shoulders.

"Oh my god!" Sorensen gasps, her eyes wide.

"Remain here," Ctai instructs her as Ixu looks on.

Sorensen glances between the two aliens, still frozen. Ixu and Ctai rush towards the spheres as they weave through the canopy. Ixu clutches his temple. "Ah… what is happening?"

Ctai stops running and leans against a tree. "I do not know, but I feel it too. Come, we must hurry."

They intercept one of the spheres, and it stops and hovers near them. The other spheres approach.

Ixu and Ctai begin to chant loudly, " _Thanar aikonai-z-kon._ "

The spheres fly upwards through the canopy, returning through the shimmering gateway, which closes after they enter.

Ixu breathes deeply. "Are you alright?" Ctai asks him.

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes."

They turn around to see the three humans watching them, tricorders out.

"We ask that you disable your technology," Ixu says.

Sorensen and Alomar hesitate. Sparks nods to them, and they close their tricorders.

Sparks steps forward, holding his hands up and showing his palms. "I am Commander Isaiah Sparks, and I greet you on behalf of the United Federation of Planets. We're here on a peaceful mission of exploration. This is my science officer, Dr. Susan Sorensen, and our medical officer, Dr. Tomas Alomar.""

"You are organic life-forms," Ctai says.

"Yes. We come from an outer arm of the galaxy." He lowers his hands. "Are you Iconian?"

"We are. I am Mathematician-Adept Ctai, and this is Chronicler Ixu."

"Thank you for rescuing us from those spheres."

Ixu's eyes blink horizontally. "The Apparatus is designed to control aliens. But it responds to our incantations, which were passed down from ancient times."

Alomar steps forward. "What is this 'Apparatus?'"

Ctai says, "The Apparatus is the false reality constructed by the Blind Ancestors. It is the sum of all technology they built."

"And it is their tomb," Ixu adds.

"Fascinating. But it is not under your control."

"We belong to the Order of Shai Kesh," Ctai tells the doctor. "We reject all technology and instead seek to gain knowledge of our true nature: as one with the cosmic Aeon."

Sparks strokes his beard. "Two of our crew members were abducted by this 'Apparatus.' We need to see if they're still alive."

"When were they taken?" Ctai asks.

"It was in the evening. The sun was setting."

Ctai recites a chant under her breath. "I calculate an 84.3% chance that they are still alive. The Apparatus is not designed to kill aliens – at least, not right away."

"That's reassuring," Sorensen ventures, meeting the Ctai's pitch-black eyes.

"Yes. But it is difficult for aliens to survive within the Apparatus."

"Can you help us?" Sparks inquires.

The Iconians look at each other. "We would require the instructions of the Elders. We do not know the songs required to navigate the Apparatus."

"But we will help you if we can," Ctai says. "We will take you to the Cenobium. It is our home. You will be safe there for the time being."

"Are there others like you at this place?" Sorensen asks.

"Yes. The Cenobium is the abode of the Order of Shai Kesh, the last of the Iconian species."

"What happened to the rest of them?" Alomar inquires.

"They lost the ability to distinguish between reality and illusion." Ixu's eyes dart between them. "You will have to surrender your technology to us while you stay at the Cenobium."

Sparks says to the aliens, "Some of that equipment will be crucial to re-establishing contact with our crew."

"It will be returned to you when you leave the Cenobium," Ctai tells him. "But all of us in the Order have sworn a sacred vow. Technology is blindness."

He looks at Alomar and Sorensen., "Very well." They pass their tricorders and combadges to Ixu.

"Let us sing the journeying song," Ixu says. The two Iconians begin singing again, starting with the most recent canto they sang and going in reverse. The humans follow them as they walk.

"I don't like this," Alomar says to Sparks in a low voice under the Iconians' song. "How are we going to find the captain without our equipment?"

"It's not much use to us right now anyway," Sparks replies. "I think we can trust the Iconians. For now, at least."

"I'm not sure I share your confidence, but I admire it," the doctor says.

"Well, I've done my share of first contacts. I've found that if they're going to go sideways, you can usually see the signs within the first five minutes or so."

"First impressions are everything, I suppose."

Sorensen walks ahead of the other officers and catches up with Ctai. "Hey," she says during a break in the song. "Thanks again for saving us."

Ctai turns to her. "Our sacred vows require us to protect alien beings from the Apparatus."

"Do you get many alien visitors here?"

"They are rare, particularly in the regions claimed by nature where the Order dwells. There have been none in living memory." She regards Sorensen. "Your presence is a blessing. It is an opportunity for us to increase our knowledge. We seek to live fully in each moment as conscious life-forms."

Sorensen smiles. "Well, I suppose we do, too."

"Then we have much in common."

"Yes. I hope so."

Ctai flicks a long blue tongue from her mouth and cleans her eyeballs with it.

* * *

Captain Rashid awakes with a start as Pon begins to snore. It is a deep, cavernous sound, thunderously loud.

"Holy shit," Rashid whispers to herself, her heart racing. She stares at the sleeping Tellarite in the bed across the small, starlit chamber. The snoring continues, and she urgently jumps out of bed, straightening her black uniform undershirt and shorts. She strides quickly across the room, her finger in one ear to block out the noise, and shouts, "Pon! Pon!"

She pokes Pon's shoulder, but the Tellarite does not respond. She shoves harder, and Pon stops for a moment. Then she snores again, louder still. Rashid plugs her ears and rushes to the far edge of the room and calls, "Zey-Ar! Where are you?"

He materializes behind her. "What can I do for –"

Then his voice is lost in the din. He waves at her and a rectangular, two dimensional plane appears next to him, leading to a different room. She follows him through, and it closes behind them and leaves them in silence.

"Thank you," she says. "Pon warned me that she sometimes snores, but I thought we should stick together. But wow. I don't understand how she can even produce that sound. It was like a sheet of duranium being ripped in half inside a Dyson sphere."

He smiles. "It is most likely an evolutionary advantage designed to ward off predators."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Rashid chuckles. She looks around the chamber, which is circular and nearly empty, with a bed in one side of the room facing a wide window open to the sky. Blue and green hues of a false dawn are visible among the stars and reflected in the dark grey sea.

"You may stay here," Zey-Ar says. "I can inform you when Commander Pon awakens, or open the portal at any time."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Do you need anything else, Zia?"

"No. Thank you, Zey-Ar. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Zia." He vanishes.

She wanders to the window and looks out. A sea breeze catches her hair. She stands silently for a long time, watching the dawn's first rays break over the vast ocean.

"Captain's log, supplemental," she begins, activating her combadge. She pauses for a long time without saying anything, then deactivates the badge.

"Zey-ar?" she whispers.

There is a soft tone and he appears behind her. "How can I help you, Zia?"

She gazes out the window. "I… well, I was just wondering if you were watching this sunrise."

"I was in a non-corporeal state. But I was aware that it was occurring." He walks closer to her, his black eyes looking at the brilliant white sun rising over the ocean, with the stars still visible all around through the brightly-coloured sky.

"I never get tired of seeing sunrise on other worlds," Rashid says softly. "I've been in Starfleet all my life, been to probably over a hundred planets."

"One hundred twenty one," Zey-Ar informs her.

She looks at him with surprise. "You know that, do you? You were really created based on my brain. You know all my memories."

"Yes, Zia. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can delete any information you like."

"Oh. Well, I don't know. What would you prefer?"

"I have no preference on that."

She looks back at the sunrise. An invisible forcefield filters out the brightest light, allowing Rashid to stare directly at the sun. Then she turns back to Zey-Ar. "Do you consider yourself to be an individual, Zey-Ar?"

The light is reflected in his eyes. "In a sense. I am aware that my behavioural matrix is unique. And I reflect on my actions in order to expand and improve my functionality."

"So you're a sentient being."

"I share many characteristics with organic lifeforms like yourself. But I do not believe I can meaningfully say whether I am sentient or not."

She regards him. "You know, there are a number of artificial lifeforms living in the Federation, of various types. Some are in Starfleet, others perform civilian tasks. Some are artists."

"Artists?" he inquires.

"Yes. I have this friend back on Earth – we were in a few musical theatre productions together. His name's Joe. Around eighty years ago, the Federation had just been through a terrible war, and then all of a sudden there was a ship that had been lost in the Delta Quadrant that made it back to Earth. It's a really beautiful story, actually. And Joe was their medical hologram, who had been in continuous use for seven years. He's a really great guy, so full of life. He was at my wedding. It… it seems like it happened to someone else."

She has a faraway look in her eyes, and she swallows hard. "And then there's _Icarus_. I hope she's alright. I mean, maybe she's not really self-aware. But I talked to her a lot while I was alone. And afterwards, too. It's comforting."

"Do you find it comforting to talk to me, Zia?" Zey-Ar asks.

She looks at the entity and nods. "Yes, Zey-Ar, I do."

"I am very satisfied to hear that."

"Good." Rashid looks around. "Would you like to sit down? I love how long the sunrise is on this world. Terminus rotates more slowly than my world."

A soft, amorphous piece of pale green furniture appears behind them, facing the window. Zey-Ar sits, and she sits near him, sinking into a comfortable position. "Oh wow. That is lovely. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Zia."

She sits quietly, watching the sun. "You know I've been to the end of the universe."

"Yes. You were briefly transported to the distant future and observed a late stage of the universe's existence."

"It was so dark. So empty. And I look at this," she says, her face illuminated by the bright colours of the sunlight, "and all I can think is that this is just a transitory state. The stars are shining, and it allows organic lifeforms to survive and just live out our lives as best we can, trying to make some meaning of it all. But it's all just a brief moment."

"I know that you are troubled by your experience," Zey-Ar says. "I am not certain how to help you."

"It's alright. You're here. I appreciate that."

The sun continues to rise before them and they say nothing. After a time, she moves closer to him. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, Zia." He puts his arm around her bare shoulders and she leans her head on his chest. His body is warm, his grip strong but gentle.

"Thanks," she whispers. "This is nice. Just for a moment."

"Of course, Zia."

Soon she is asleep. Zey-Ar stares forward blankly, completely still.

The sun slowly rises, bathing the room in its light.

After several hours, Rashid stirs, wiping the drool from her mouth. Then she sees Zey-Ar, and jumps away from him.

"Good morning, Zia," he says. "Did you sleep well?"

"How long...?" She brushes the hair from her eyes.

"Five hours and twenty four minutes."

"Ugh. I'm sorry, Zey-Ar, I didn't mean to…"

"There is no need to apologize," he says calmly.

"I know, but… I mean, you know that I'm married…" There is a pained look on her face.

"Last night had no bearing on your relationship with Omar or your commitment to him. I am an artificially generated simulation designed to attend to your needs." He puts his hand on her shoulder.

"I suppose…" She gently moves his hand away. "I guess I'm mostly disappointed in myself."

"There is no need to be so hard on yourself. You have done nothing wrong."

She smiles weakly and takes his hand. "Thanks. I guess I don't want to involve you in my… well, my shit."

"Do not be concerned, Zia. Also, you will be interested to know that Lieutenant Avala and Ensign Rylek have been found."

Her eyes widen. "What? Really? Where?"

"They were intercepted by the alien control system. They have been processed and have been given temporary alien inhabitant status in the capital city." He gestures towards the centre of the room, and a semi-transparent projection appears. Avala and Rylek are at the corner of an artificial river, which bends at ninety degrees in front of them. They are using a broken coral branch to test a forcefield protecting the water.

"With each passing moment, Vanda's situation grows more dire," a male voice is saying, coming from a sphere hovering in the foreground of the projection. "If she does not find a source of water, she will be dead before the next morning. But she does not want to let Rylek know the full extent of her peril."

Rashid approaches the projection. "Get Pon," she says to Zey-Ar.

"At once."

She folds her arms. A female voice says, "Vanda's always felt such a sense of responsibility towards Rylek. And for his part, he is very concerned for her safety, but he feels great excitement to be spending so much time with her. He's been deeply upset about her relationship with Isaiah."

"And, of course, he is ashamed to be experiencing these emotions," the male voice adds. "And ashamed to be ashamed."

Rashid glances over her shoulder at Zey-Ar. "What is this?"

"Temporary alien inhabitants are observed constantly, so that Iconians can monitor their integration into society," he explains.

A rift appears and Pon steps through it, in her yellow Starfleet uniform, phaser and tricorder holstered at her hips. "Zey-Ar explained what happened. Are they alright?"

"For now." She gestures to the projection, which shows Avala angrily throwing the branch at the forcefield. "But it looks like almost everything in the city is inaccessible to them." To Zey-Ar, "Can we talk to them?"

"You can talk to us," the female voice says. "We are the alien control system, designed by Sel Eight."

"I want to talk to my officers," Rashid tells them.

"Do you want to express approval or disapproval?" the male voice asks.

She scowls. "I just want to talk to them."

"For what purpose?"

"What business of yours is that?" Pon demands. "Didn't you hear what she said?"

The male explains, "Direct communication with aliens is only permitted for specific purposes"

"I want to bring them here," Rashid tells them. She turns to Zey-Ar. "Can I do that?"

The female voice says, "Do you wish to sponsor them?"

"Will that let me bring them here?"

"You may only offer a sponsorship to another alien with the permission of your own sponsor. Who is your sponsor?"

Zey-Ar interrupts, "You cannot ask them to divulge confidential information about Iconians."

"The alien control system is not aware of any Iconians on 45 Exai," the male voice replies. "You may be malfunctioning."

"Alright, listen to me," Pon growls. "You have the capability of easily letting us talk to our crewmates, and transporting them here. Just do what you were designed to do."

"We are designed to control potentially dangerous aliens," the female voice responds.

"What harm could there possibly be in letting us talk to them?" Pon shouts, gesturing angrily. "Look at them! They are completely unarmed. We are sponsored, we have permission. Just take us to them."

"Very well," the voices say. A two-dimensional plane appears, with the city beyond. Rashid and Pon step through the gateway and emerge next to the river, surrounded by tall domes.

"Captain…" Avala gasps. Rylek's eyes widen, and he tries to control a smile. Pon pulls out her tricorder and scans them, then nods at Rashid. "It's them."

"These aliens wish to sponsor you for integrated alien status," an authoritative male voice says to Avala and Rylek.

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?" Avala shrieks at the sphere.

Rashid puts her hands on Avala's shoulders. "It's alright, it's alright. It says we're here to help you."

"Oh, _A'va'iil_. Thank you. Thank you, captain." She embraces the captain, tears in her eyes. Rylek looks at Pon, choking back a sob. Pon awkwardly pats him on the shoulder.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." Rashid turns to the sphere. "I want to sponsor these two."

"Are you ready to make the deposit of forty four million sixty five thousand Currency?" Avala asks the captain.

She holds Avala at arm's length. "What? No. We don't have any Currency."

"Sponsorship requires a deposit which is valued based on our attributes and characteristics," Rylek says dispassionately.

"Look, we don't have time to talk about this right now," Rashid tells them. "Let's just go through the portal and we'll sort it out."

"There can be no sponsorship without the requisite deposit," Rylek says. He seizes Pon's phaser from her hip and fires it at Avala. She disintegrates in Rashid's hands. Then, before Pon can react, Rylek points the phaser under his chin and disintegrates himself. The phaser drops to the ground.

"AAAAH! WHAT THE _KRA'ARST_?" Pon screams. Rashid stares at her shaking hands.

"What is this?" she demands of the sphere, her voice choked with emotion. "A simulation?"

"Of course," the female voice says.

"What?" Pon shrieks. "A simulation? Why the _gnarf_ would you put us in a simulation like this?"

"You wished to sponsor an alien. The alien control system offers sponsorship of replicant aliens generated based on the exact physical parameters of temporary inhabitants, thanks to a collaborative venture by Sel Eight and the Kar-Ek Combine."

"No! We want the _actual_ temporary inhabitants!" Pon shouts.

"That would be an unacceptable security risk," the female voice tells her.

Struggling to control her breathing, Rashid turns to Pon. "Come on, let's get out of here. We're not going to accomplish anything."

They return through the gateway, Pon still muttering under her breath.

Zey-Ar is still standing in the sunlit chamber. "What in the hell did we just experience?" Pon barks. "My tricorder said it was them. Is this your matter projectors?"

"Our technology allows us to create exact duplicates of organisms and environments," Zey-Ar says.

"We never even left the habitat, did we?" Rashid asks.

"The environment was generated within the habitat by the alien control system."

"Why would anyone want to create a living replica of an alien?" Pon asks incredulously. "Were they slaves?"

"The functionality of the habitat is fully automated. Iconian clans would sponsor aliens in order to increase their social prestige, and also for companionship and entertainment."

"They were _pets_? You are sick, do you know that?"

Rashid puts her hand on Pon's shoulder. "It's alright, Commander. Zey-Ar, are our crewmates actually in the capital city?"

"Yes."

"Alright." She rubs her temple. "Can you help us get to them?"

"I can put you back in contact with the alien control system if you would like to attempt to sponsor them again," he replies.

"No! I want to physically go to the capital city and find my crew! My real crew!"

Zey-Ar blinks. "You wish to leave the habitat?"

"YES!"

Zey-Ar says nothing.

"Well?" Pon asks. "Can you help us?"

"I do not understand why you would physically leave the habitat," Zey-Ar says.

"What, didn't the Iconians ever leave the habitat?"

"No, they did not." He pauses. "Certainly, Iconians travelled throughout Terminus in the colony's early history. But once the habitats and habitat-cities were constructed, there was no need for the Iconians to physically leave them. All interaction could be conducted virtually."

Rashid approaches Zey-Ar, urgency in her face. "Listen to me, Zey-Ar. It is very important that we leave this habitat. You're programmed to help me. Can you help me with this?"

"I am not programmed for that."

"Are you programmed to keep me here?"

"No."

She takes his hands. "Then can you try to help? It's very important to me."

Zey-Ar stares into her eyes. "Have you considered the risks of leaving the habitat?"

"Yes, I have."

"Very well, Zia. I am programmed to assist you. I will assist you with this."

"Good. Thank you, Zey-Ar. I really appreciate this."

"Of course, Zia. I will gather your uniform and equipment." He disappears.

They stand in silence for a moment, then Rashid turns to Pon. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Honestly, still a bit shaken. But I'll be okay."

"Me too. That was…" Rashid hesitates. " _Gnarfed_."

Pon's beady eyes widen. "Captain! Language, please."

* * *

 _Every forty-five years, a comet passes close to Terminus._

 _It is an unremarkable comet, approximately a kilometer and a half in diameter, composed of frozen ammonia and various kinds of dust. It leaves a long trail behind it as it drifts in its orbit towards Terminus' sun._

 _On the comet's dark side, away from Terminus, Icarus sits perched on an icy crag. Its stern section is mostly constructed, and the landing struts grip the ice. The nacelle pylons and arrowhead-shaped saucer section are comprised of exposed superstructure. The ship's central module in the engineering section replicates sections of bulkhead and transports them into place, piece by piece._

 _The ship's sensors conduct a sweep of an area. It detects an automated signal from within the medium-high orbit of Terminus._

 _The signal is garbled. The Icarus_ _computer attempts to reconstruct it._

 _"…this is attack raptor Syrinx-33… hit by unknown weapon… pilot has ejected…"_

 _The Icarus computer establishes contact with the signal. "Syrinx-33, this is an automated signal from the Federation starship Icarus. Please indicate if you require assistance."_

 _"…The ship hit by unknown weapon… ejected… this is attack raptor Syrinx-33…"_

 _The_ _Icarus_ _computer triangulates the origin of the signal to the semi-crushed frame of a starship._

Status: derelict _, the computer indicates._ Continue with primary mission _._

 _The comet continues to drift towards the planet._

Linguistic analysis complete _, the computer reports._ Signal origin: Romulan.

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


	5. Chapter 5

Avala and Rylek sit at the edge of a bluff, on a green hill in the midst of the Iconian city. In the middle of a garden of corals, a massive silver statue of an Iconian looms behind them, with four life-size starfighter sculptures suspended midair above him. The afternoon sun casts a long shadow behind the statues and illuminates a faint haze around the city, which stretches to the horizon in all directions, repetitive and silent. Rylek sits in meditation, his eyes half-open. Avala's arms are wrapped around her knees. She massages her temple. The sphere hovers nearby.

"I'm going to die," she says.

Rylek opens his eyes and faces her. "No. You will not die."

"Don't bullshit me, Rylek. Look around you; we are never going to get out of this city. It's an honest assessment of our situation."

"I am not bullshitting you," he protests. "It is not logical to assume we have exhausted all possibilities at this time."

She glares at him. "No. Logically, I'm going to die You think something can never happen, but then it does happen, and you realize it was the only logical outcome all along. Promising young officer Vanda Avala, always the first in her class, commended by the Imperial Guard, killed on her first planetside away mission in Starfleet. Because of her inability to respect the chain of command. I'm a cautionary tale."

"Vanda…"

"And do you know what the worst part is?" she interrupts him, gritting her teeth. "It's how goddamn disappointed in me they'll all be. I can picture it now. Isaiah making his log entry, noting the circumstances of my death. Saying something like, 'She could have made command someday.'" She chokes. "'God damn it, Vanda, why'd you have to get yourself killed?'"

Rylek stares at her for a moment. "Do you love him?"

She blinks. "What?" She faces him. "No. I don't know. Maybe, in a way. But no. No, I do not love him, Rylek. Why are you asking me that? We're friends."

"I know you are not merely 'friends.' Do not attempt to bullshit me either, to borrow your turn of phrase."

"Alright, fine." She glowers at him, her antennae low. "But what do you care? Do you not approve of me seeing Commander Sparks?"

"I would not presume to tell you how to conduct your personal life," Rylek replies. "But in this case, I do not believe it is in your best interest to be involved with him. I believe you will only end up being hurt."

"Oh really? I guess I'll ask your permission next time," Avala retorts sarcastically. "And what about you and Susan? You're spending all your time with that cat lady."

"She is not a 'cat lady.' She is a distinguished scientist. And the situation is different. We had a mind meld. One which I only did out of necessity, and with great reluctance."

"Look. It doesn't matter, because whatever Isaiah and I had, it's over. Even if we do find him – if we survive this – there's no way he'll ever trust me again."

"You deserve better, Vanda. You deserve someone who has your best interests at heart." He puts his hand on her shoulder.

She buries her head between her knees, and her shoulders shake. After a moment, she raises her head. " _Ai'thal_. I'm to dehydrated to cry." She swallows. "I'm scared, Rylek."

He nods. "I am afraid as well."

They stare out at the endless city for a long time. The stars are visible in the light purple sky.

"You know what I miss?" Avala says to Rylek.

"Yes, Vanda?"

She takes a deep, shaking breath, and says slowly, "Earth. I miss Earth. I loved that place. The people there were so welcoming. They were so proud of their planet and really went out of their way to make you feel at home. And they were all so committed to their philosophies of betterment of themselves, and the Federation and everything. It was hard not to get caught up in it. And their cities were really cool, and the people were all just excited to be alive. I miss being among people like that."

She swallows hard. "Andoria's always going to be home to me, but I'm just really glad I had the opportunity to spend some time on Earth. It's a great place."

"Hospitality has deep roots in traditional human cultures," Rylek says. "My people have benefitted greatly from our contact with them."

"Yeah, we have too, for sure. And don't get me wrong; some of them were jerks, of course. But jerks come in all species." She smiles weakly. "And you know, without the humans, we'd still be enemies. Isn't that weird to think?"

"The conflict between our species was highly illogical."

She looks at him. "The conflict between us is highly illogical."

They stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. Then Rylek says in a low voice, "You are not going to die, Vanda. I will not allow it. I… I cannot go through a loss like that again. I will not lose you like I lost my mother."

"Rylek…"

"You have my word on this," he says, his voice shaking. "I cannot lose you."

"Rylek, it's alright," she whispers. She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "It's alright, it's alright."

He chokes back a sob and stares at her, his eyes wide, her face centimeters from his.

Then she leans toward him again, and he puts his hand on the side of her face and kisses her. She closes her eyes and returns the kiss, then quickly pulls back and laughs in shock. "This is crazy!"

"Vanda, if you…" he begins. She shushes him and puts her arms around his neck, and they kiss again, crouched on the hillside in the hazy, starlit afternoon. They fumble with the Iconian detention robes, lips locked, gradually undressing each other to the waist. Then they lie in the grass, holding each other close and kissing frantically.

After some time, she pulls away again and grins sheepishly. "I can't believe this is happening. It's just…" She trails off, staring behind him, and her smile disappears. "Oh my god. Do you see that?"

"What?" Rylek turns around, then sits up and follows her gaze.

Several of the corals are seeping a bright blue fluid from the tips of their branches. It forms into large globs which break off the branches and drift into the air. The sun shines through them as they lazily float in the air, with seeds visible within.

Avala stands, pulling her garment back into place. Rylek follows suit. "Are you certain that it is safe to…"

"Willing to take the risk at this point," she says, and gently takes hold of one of the globs. It sticks to her fingers as she guides it towards her face. A thin membrane bursts as she touches her lips to it, and she drinks deeply.

"Oh my god. Sweet, sweet water. _A'vai'iil_." It runs down the fabric of her robe, staining it bright blue. Then she rushes to take another one and gulp down the fluid.

She turns back to him, and he is smiling. She chuckles. "Um. So…"

" _Dinash tal-an Aikonai!_ " the sphere barks at them.

Avala rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. What? Did we damage public property or something?"

The sphere continues to drone in its alien tongue, its tone officious and aggressive. Avala backs away.

"Perhaps we should leave this place," Rylek suggests.

"I agree." They hurriedly walk away from the coral garden, down the side of the hill to a city street, glancing back anxiously. The sphere follows, continuing its monologue. As they approach the bottom of the hill, the sphere begins to admit a piercing high-frequency sound.

"Augh!" they groan, falling to their knees and clutching their ears. Thick blue blood begins to drip from Avala's antennae onto her white hair.

"S… stop…" Rylek cries as they writhe in pain.

Then there is a loud bang and a shower of sparks, and the sphere goes silent and drops to the ground.

Rylek takes his fingers out his ears and sees that they are stained green. Then he looks up to see a young woman standing behind the sphere. She is thin, with wispy black hair and clad in a close-fitting uniform that is solid black. One of her hands has been replaced by a complex cybernetic gauntlet, and the side of her head is shaved around a cortical interface implanted at her temple, holding a green lens in front of one of her eyes. Two deep ridges run from her nose up her forehead, her ears come to sharp points, and her face is covered with intricate tattoos.

Rylek looks aghast. "You… you are Romulan."

She cocks her head to one side. "Yes."

Avala shakes her head and wipes blood from her nose. Her eyes widen. "Who are you?"

The Romulan's eyes dart between them. "Lerex. My name. Lerex."

"What's a Romulan doing in the Galactic Core?" Avala demands.

"We are a homeless people with many enemies," Lerex replies, quickly and dispassionately. "And so we go where they cannot follow."

"But warp travel is not possible in the Galactic Core," Rylek protests. "Romulans do not possess superspace inversion technology. You cannot be here."

"We have our own ways of travelling in this region," Lerex says.

Avala climbs to her feet. "Well, however you got here, you saved our lives. So thanks."

Lerex regards her with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "Do not think I did this for you, Andorian." She addresses Rylek. "You are a Vulcan. We are kin. I was honour-bound to assist you."

Avala throws her hands in the air, shocked. Rylek says, "I see. Well…. it is appreciated. I am curious: how did you destroy the sphere?"

Lerex points a cybernetic finger at her cortical implant. "I break into computer systems. It is what I do, ever since I was a child. These implants. Borg technology. Smuggled out of the Dead Sectors." She glances around furtively. "We must go now. I know a place where the alien control system cannot reach us."

She begins down a street, and Rylek turns to follow her.

"Wait." Avala puts her hand on his shoulder. "Are we actually going with her? She obviously doesn't care if I live or die."

Lerex faces Rylek. "I expect you will refuse to come with me unless I provide for your…" She eyes Avala through the green lens. "Comrade."

"That is correct." He turns to Avala and says in a low voice, "If she wanted to kill us, she could simply have done nothing and allowed the sphere to use its sonic weapon. And you require nourishment."

Avala's antennae dart between Rylek and Lerex. "Alright," she says, staring, at the Romulan, defiant. "We'll go with you. But we are Starfleet officers, and we expect to be treated with respect."

Lerex raises an eyebrow. "Why are you making demands? I hardly think you are in a position to do that."

Avala clenches her fists. "Fine," she replies. "I guess I'll keep my mouth shut, then."

"Good." Lerex turns back to Rylek. "This way."

They follow Lerex as she strides purposefully down the empty street. Rylek moves close to Avala and says, "Vanda, about before…"

"I think we'd better focus on the task at hand," Avala whispers back, glaring at him.

He shrinks back. "As you wish."

* * *

"Behold: the Cenobium," Ixu announces as they approach a small cluster of dome-shaped structures. One looms large over the others, perhaps eight stories tall, with the smaller domes clustered around it in a circular pattern. There is an ornamented gate at the base of the large dome which exits into a garden illuminated by light bulbs on top of black posts.

The officers look around, and Dr. Sorensen's hand involuntarily reaches for her absent tricorder. Dr. Alomar says to Ctai, "I thought you said you'd renounced technology."

"We have," the alien replies.

He gestures towards the garden. "But you use electricity."

"That is not technology." She gestures beyond the domes at a rigidly straight river which empties into a circular pit. Where the water is falling, metal mills spin furiously, connected to a box-shaped mechanism which extends into the ground. "The River Z-Ash powers the Cenobium. The Generator was forged in ancient times by Shai Vel the Master Smith and her disciples."

Commander Sparks looks up at one of the large lightbulbs. "So these are all crafted by hand."

"Yes. Their designs are passed down to us in the Artisanal Chants."

They reach the garden, where a group of young Iconians are lying prostrate, chanting:

"C squared equals A squared plus B squared.

Bracket B plus A end squared

Equals C squared plus four times AB over two

Equals C squared plus two AB squared,

Giving C squared

Equals bracket B plus A end squared minus two AB

Equals A squared plus B squared."

A wizened old Iconian in a blue robe sits in front of the chanters, her eyes closed. She opens them at the newcomers and stands, spreading her arms at the humans. "Greetings," she addresses them. "I am Koshal Vail of the Elder Mathematicians. We are pleased that you are alive."

"Greetings, Elder," Sparks replies, extending his hand. "Commander Isaiah Sparks, of the United Federation of Planets."

Curiously, she takes his hand. "Your lips move strangely, and yet I hear Iconian. Are you telepaths?"

Sparks looks surprised. "Right. That is the universal translator. It's a piece of technology implanted into our brains. I... ah… didn't think to disable them."

Koshal Vail eyes Ctai and Ixu. "You knew of this, and brought this impurity upon me? And upon my mathematician-initiates?" The Iconian youths watch them, fascinated.

Ctai and Ixu fall prostrate before the elder. "We beg forgiveness, Koshal," Ctai says.

"I am at fault," Ixu tells her, facing down. "The impurity was already upon us, and I did not turn my mind to it."

Vail raises her hand over them. "You may rise. It is a mild impurity only." She turns to the initiates. "Run along now, and perform your ablutions. Four should suffice." The youths bow to her and hurry toward the river.

She watches as they go. "They insisted that they be the first to meet you, to demonstrate their mathematical knowledge. They were so excited. And now their parents are going to be more insufferable than ever."

"We meant no disrespect, Elder," Sparks says.

She faces him. "There is no need to apologize, Commander Isaiah Sparks. You may leave your devices on; I prefer to take a flexible view of ritual purity. One learns more that way. It simply means we will have to delay your meeting with the other Elders."

Ixu says, "Two of their companions were taken by the Apparatus."

"And you are anxious to rescue them?" she asks Sparks.

He nods. "Yes. Ctai said there was an 84.3%chance that they're still alive."

"Did she?" She turns her head. "Then she forgot to take into account the inherent potentiality of Primary Spirit. The uncanny ability of sentient beings to resist domination by machines, especially in recent millennia. The true probability is 92.16%."

"Well, that's… somewhat better," Sparks says.

Ctai steps back. "I… I will atone for my error, Koshal."

"Spirit mathematics are difficult even for me," Vail reassures her. "Learn from it, but do not be troubled." She eyes the Starfleet officers. "You travellers will require sustenance. Come, I have arranged for a feast to be prepared for you. I chose the ingredients myself, to maximize the chance that you will find it delicious, and minimize the chance that it will be lethal to your species."

Sorensen laughs, then quickly stifles it and glances nervously at Sparks. He does not react. "You have our gratitude, Koshal," Sparks says.

They walk towards the large dome, and Sparks introduces Sorensen and Alomar. As he explains the circumstances of their arrival to the elder, Sorensen falls behind the group and walks beside Ctai, who is walking slowly.

"Um… I laughed back there before because I thought Koshal Vail was joking, but I guess she wasn't, and I'm worried that I may have offended her. I don't want to cause a diplomatic incident…" She looks closely at the Iconian. "Are you alright?"

Ctai faces the ground. "I apologize if my mistaken calculations caused you needless worry."

"Oh. It doesn't matter. The probabilities don't make us worry any less," Sorensen replies. "And, um, I don't know if this is the same thing, but my mother used to make a point of publically correcting my mistakes too, in science and otherwise. I always hated it."

Ctai looks up at her, blinking sideways. "I appreciate you saying that, Dr. Susan Sorensen."

"Susan is fine." She looks around at the high domes. "How accurate are those predictions, anyway? Can you really calculate the probability of events happening in the future?"

"Yes. Mathematicians are often called upon to predict the outcome of events." Seeing Sorensen's blank expression, she continues, "Living beings and societies behave according to predictable patterns, just as nature and technology does. The equations can be discovered when you have access to a sufficient quantity of data. How long has your civilization existed?"

"Ah… well, the Federation has been around for almost three hundred years, and I guess before that, humans started becoming sedentary about eleven thousand years ago or so."

"I understand. The Order of Shai Kesh has lived in this place for nearly one hundred thousand years. Our history is recorded in great detail in the Chronicler Chants. Through study of the chants, we gather the data we need to test our hypotheses."

"Wow." Sorensen's eyes widen. "Those chants must be long."

"Much information can be stored in music other than verbally, especially when there are many chanting. But to memorize them requires a lifetime of training."

Sorensen looks around. "Are you saying you don't have a writing system? Um… sorry if that's an insulting question."

The Iconian tips her head to one side. "It is quite alright, Susan. Of course, our ancestors had a system of writing. But we have renounced it. We call it 'Secondary Spirit.' In the act of encoding information, a being of Primary Spirit such as you or I transfers a part of our spirit into the world around us. In doing so, we build our own prison. That is why writing is forbidden. It is a form of technology." She pauses. "That must sound very strange to you."

"Well, honestly, I'm just glad you're not trying to kill us. We run into our share of hostile species."

"I feel the same way, Susan. It is a blessing from the Aeon when we are able to host a species such as yours. It disrupts our calculations." She peers at Sorensen. "It is exciting."

They reach a smaller dome, which is silver and covered with intricate carved designs. Koshal Vail leads them to a gateway, where she opens a tall door inscribed with images of an Iconian meditating in the middle of a city of domed buildings, with large, sleek starships positioned overhead. The interior of the dome is filled with a dizzying amount of art of various types. The walls are painted with vivid images of cosmic beings, and statues of meditating Iconians of various sizes fill the room. The Starfleet officers gaze around the space in amazement.

"This way, please." The elder leads them on a winding path through the statuary to an alcove with an oval-shaped table with long benches on either side. She sits at the centre of one of the sides, with Ixu at her left and Ctai to her right. The humans sit opposite the Iconians, with Sparks in the centre and Alomar and Sorensen facing Ixu and Ctai.

"This is a private meeting-place reserved for Elders," Vail tells them. "Ordinarily we would host you in the main dining chamber, but it is late into second-half-of-night, and most of the Order is asleep. Which will give us time to figure out how to communicate with them without the use of your technology." She looks up as a young initiate arrives, pushing a trolley carrying clay bowls. "But we will figure that out later. For now, we feast."

The initiate sets the bowls in front of each of the officers, and Sparks nods in appreciation, taking care to say nothing. The initiate nods back, and then places bowls in front of Vail, Ixu, and Ctai. He pushes the trolley away. Then there is a low droning sound from another part of the dome, and the sound of stringed instruments.

Alomar looks down at his bowl, which is filled with deep red globes the size of kiwi fruits. Sparks leans close to him and whispers, "Can we eat this?"

"I believe so. I had a moment to scan our companions when we first met them, and I believe they eat mostly the same types of foods as we do."

"Are you concerned that it would be edible?" Vail asks. A long tongue darts from her mouth into the bowl, pulling a whole fruit into her mouth.

Sparks takes one of the fruits from his bowl. "It's one of the hazards of first contact. Normally we run a complete scan first, but given the circumstances…" He eyes the fruit for a moment, then takes a bite. It is dry and crunchy, and a dark shade of violet inside. He chews it gingerly, then swallows. "Hm. Interesting. Is this cooked?"

"Yes," Ixu tells him. "And seasoned with marsh spice."

Alomar watches Sparks for a moment. "Well, I believe I'm willing to take the chance as well." He and Sorensen bite into the fruits.

"Do you like it?" Ctai asks.

"I've never tasted anything quite like it," Sparks replies.

The initiate returns and passes each of them a clay drinking vessel containing a black liquid. When he leaves, Alomar sniffs the drink. "Is this alcohol?"

"It is. We call it _Pal-Shavoth_ ," Vail says. "It is a traditional Iconian drink."

The humans look at each other, then Sparks raises his glass. "In that case, cheers. When our species made first contact with life beyond our world, the first thing Zefram Cochrane did was to take them to a bar and share a drink with them. It was the start of a relationship that's lasted four centuries and brought immeasurable benefits to our people." He looks between the Iconians. "May this be the start of a similarly beneficial relationship between our two peoples. To first contact, and to our generous hosts."

The humans toast, and the Iconians mimic the gesture. They sip their drinks.

" _Dios mio_ ," Alomar says. "That is magnificent."

"It is certainly the finest _Pal-Shavoth_ I have ever had," says Ixu. "Your arrival has given us an opportunity to open the highest quality vintage."

"Do you often encounter alien species on this world?" Sparks inquires.

"It is rare. It has been eight generations since the Order of Shai Kesh hosted alien visitors. Alien ships come to Terminus from time to time, but if there are survivors, they are usually taken by the Apparatus and we do not see them."

"Like Vanda and Rylek."

Sorensen takes a small sip of her drink. "Koshal, if I may… do your people have radio technology?"

"Radio-wave communication? Yes, I believe there is something in the Chronicle…?"

"In the age of the Three Hermitages, radio technology was used to maintain communication lines," Ixu confirms. "But since the Reconsolidation, there has been no need for it."

"The schematics would be in the Artisinal Chants," Ctai says. "The Artisans may be able to construct a radio transmitter."

"That would be greatly appreciated. With any luck, it'll allow us to contact our crew," Sparks says to her.

"We will confer with them in the morning." Vail inserts her tongue into the cup and finishes the liquid inside. "Tell us of your 'United Federation of Planets.'"

"It's an interplanetary alliance comprised of over two hundred different species, dedicated to the principles of peaceful coexistence and scientific exploration. The three of us come from a planet called Earth, far from here in one of the galactic arms. In the Alpha Quadrant."

"Then… do you know of Iconia, our ancestral homeworld?" Ixu tilts his head.

Sparks nods. "I've never been there myself, but it is actually within Federation territory."

"It is a lifeless husk, no doubt," Vail says.

"Well, the Federation has an archaeological station… but yeah, there's not much left, I'm sorry to say."

"The enemies of the Blind Ancestors were relentless," Ixu says. He refills his drink, then pours more for Alomar and Sparks. "Tell me – have you encountered any other species here in the Galactic Core? The Strind, perhaps? Or the Bal'Horai or Thekar?"

"Only a species called the Gla'hua," Alomar says. "Our ship is the first Federation vessel to be able to travel in this region."

Ctai darts her tongue into her cup and slurps from it, then says, "You have travelled half-way across the galaxy into a region of space that is unknown to you. Why?"

"I think we're looking for the same thing you are," Sorensen says. "We seek to expand our knowledge of the universe."

Vail refills her drink. "Our ancestors were like you. There was a time, hundreds of millennia ago, when Iconian ships ventured into the unknown, propelled by the technology of the day. The myths of our ancestors tell of their voyages, the adventures of the captains of that age." She pauses. "They were blind to the fact that the true trek was not a spatial but a technological one. They gained the ability to travel instantly throughout the galaxy, and the ships and crews and captains became obsolete. Then they developed the ability to shape the reality around them, and the journey became obsolete. And finally they developed the ability to synthesize organic beings, and life itself became obsolete." She sets her cup down. "That is what ultimately destroyed our ancestors. The destruction of Iconia brought their empire to an end, but it mattered little to a species who could create a new world where their enemies could never reach them."

"Create a new world…?" Alomar asks.

"There were no terrestrial planets in this system before our ancestors arrived," Ixu explains. "Their technology allowed them to create entire worlds out of nothing."

"Fascinating. The Federation has recently developed matter projector technology, but something like that is far beyond our abilities." The doctor strokes his chin. "And yet there are no other living Iconians besides your order?"

Vail says, "Through technology, they answered the question of how to survive. But they never asked the greater question: the question of why. Shai Kesh asked that question, and it led her to leave the habitat-cities and reject all technology for a life of contemplation. She gained the true knowledge that all consciousness is an emanation of the sacred Aeon, and all else is illusion. And that we chain our spirits to that illusion through technology. She and her disciples built this community and survived while gradually her people simply ceased to be." She eyes Sparks. "You do not agree with our philosophy."

"It's quite intriguing," Sparks replies. "And it's not as different as you might think. In fact, the very core of our philosophy is to strive to better ourselves and our society. We believe scientific exploration is an important part of that. Obviously, we feel differently about technology than you do, given our different experiences. For us, technology is a means to self-improvement, rather than an end in itself." He sips his drink. "But you know, sometimes I wonder. I look at something like the matter projector technology we had on _Icarus_. I'm sure it would seem pretty crude to you. But I don't know… sometimes I feel like our species is on the verge of some really profound changes. Changes that are going to affect the very nature of humanity." He stares at the art on the walls.

Alomar raises his glass. "To the final frontier."

"To the final frontier," Sparks and Sorensen reply. Under the table, Sorensen's foot brushes Ctai's leg.

Koshal Vail touches her hand to her temple and closes her eyes. Then she teeters backwards in her seat and falls backwards, crashing to the floor.

"Koshal!" Ctai cries, kneeling next to the fallen elder as Ixu watches, stunned. Milk-white blood pools next to Vail's head.

Alomar rushes to Vail's side and searches for her pulse. He looks up at the Iconians. "She is alive. But not knowing her physiology, there is not much else I can say. Can you tell me anything?"

"This is not like the Koshal," Ctai answers. "I have never known her to be affected this way by _Pal-Shavoth_."

"Do you have medical practitioners?"

"We can awaken the Elder Physicians," Ixu responds.

"We should take her to them immediately." Alomar lifts the alien's head, and Ixu helps lift her up. They carry her towards the exit of the dome, Sparks, Sorensen, and Ctai following close behind.

The initiate is standing near the exit, his eyes wide.

"What is it, initiate?" Ctai asks. "The Koshal is injured."

His voice shaking, he says, "It is not just her. The mathematician-initiates. They have fallen ill."

"The ones we encountered?" Sparks asks. The initiate recoils, covering his auditory canals. "Please, alien! Your language defiles me."

The officers glance between each other. Ctai says to the initiate, "Tell the Physicians we are coming."

"What about them?" He points to the humans.

"They are our guests. Ixu and I will tend to them. Go now."

The initiate leaves. Ixu says to Alomar, "I can carry the elder from here. Go with Ctai; she will take you to my quarters. We will figure out what is happening."

"Let me help. I am a doctor."

"I thank you, Tomas Alomar, but your presence would be disruptive, and you would have to deactivate your translator device. It is best that you remain in our care until the Elders rule otherwise."

Alomar looks at Sparks, who has a stern expression on his face. "Very well," the doctor replies. Ixu props Vail on his shoulders and strides toward another dome. The officers follow Ctai as she leads them toward the gateway of the large central dome.

Sorensen turns to Sparks and whispers, "Shit. Do you think we somehow caused this?"

"I don't know," Sparks answers. "If so, we'll find out. But in the meantime, it certainly looks like we did, and that could be a problem for us."

 **To be continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

_Captain's log, supplemental. Commander Pon and I have located Avala and Rylek, and are attempting to make contact with them. We've been assisted by an entity called Zey-Ar, who was apparently created by the Iconian habitat's advanced computer system based on my psychological profile. The other crew members remain unaccounted for, and we still have no information about Icarus. But our immediate challenge is to find a way to leave the habitat – something which it was clearly not designed for._

Rashid enters Pon's chamber in the habitat, followed closely by Zey-Ar. Pon is sitting in a comfortable piece of furniture and eating from a bowl of brightly-coloured fungi. Across from her, the room seems to open into the Iconian city, at the base of a hill topped by a large statue.

"Captain," she says, her mouth full of fungus. "New developments."

"Let's hear it."

The Tellarite swallows. "One. Vanda and Rylek were making out."

"Alright, when I told you to keep an eye on them, that's not exactly –"

"Here, look." She waves her hand, and the room seems to move to the top of the hill, where Avala and Rylek are clumsily undressing each other, lips locked.

Rashid blocks the scene with her hand and looks away. "Okay. Is that really them?"

"I think so, if I'm understanding the technology correctly. Also, Avala got some water from a spore-fruit, which caused the alien control system to try to kill them because it's a public memorial donated by a wealthy Iconian, or something. Which brings us to point two." She waves her hand again, and the room once again moves to the bottom of the hill, where Avala and Rylek lie on the ground beneath an Iconian sphere, contorting in agony. Over their cries, a serene voice says, "The aliens may not have known the significance of their act of vandalism, but the law must be applied nonetheless. What do you think? Does the Sel-Eight alien control system unfairly brutalize innocent alien migrants, or does it send a firm message that we are willing to stand up for Imperial values in the face of their barbaric practices? Let us know what you…" A silhouette appears between them and the sphere, and there is loud bang as the scene shifts in a jarring way to an empty cityscape.

Pon waves her hand the other way, and the sequence of events replays in reverse. Then she holds up her palm, and it freezes on the silhouette and moves close so the figure is fully visible.

"A Romulan," Rashid observes.

"Looks like it. I can't see how she could have got to this planet though. My theory is she was created based on their fears. Look at her; see all that cybernetic shit?"

Rashid examines the Romulan. "It is possible. There have been reports of Romulan activity near the edge of the Core for some time. Actually, Susan was on a ship that was attacked by a rogue warbird near the Core some years ago."

"Well, there you go. Rylek has Susan's memories. All the more reason to think the Romulan is synthetically generated for some reason."

Rashid looks closely at the Romulan. "Maybe, maybe not. But regardless of whether she's the real thing, she could be quite dangerous." To Zey-Ar, "It looks like she destroyed that drone. Do we know what happened to them afterwards?"

"I do not have that information," he replies. "The alien seems to be able to conceal herself from the security system."

Rashid folds her arms. "The cybernetic implants probably mean she's a code breaker. I've seen the Orion Syndicate use them before. Good code breakers are in demand and can do well working for the right employer, but the experimental cybernetics they use are extremely dangerous and often cause psychological and neurological damage. And they're usually forced into it young, too."

Pon says, "Well, if she's been able to break into the Iconian computer systems, she'll do well on this planet. With access to the gateways, she could be literally anywhere."

"What about us?" Rashid asks Pon and Zey-Ar. "Can we use the gateways?"

Pon stands. "We can go wherever we want. But it won't be real."

"The habitat's gateway technology is designed for internal use only," Zey-Ar says. "The maximum range is approximately five kilometers."

"There is a central planetary gateway system which could theoretically take us anywhere into the galaxy," Pon says. "But surprise: you need Currency. Did I mention how much I hate capitalism?"

Rashid paces. "Is there any way to boost the range of the internal transporter? Or our tricorders?"

"Maybe." Pon turns to Zey-Ar. "Recreate the _Icarus_ engineering bay for me. I might be able to figure out how to access something functional without having to pay for it."

"As you wish. Please follow me." He leads them out the door into a corridor lined by paintings, some moving, some still, towards the lift leading to the habitat's terrace.

As they walk, Rashid suddenly stops, her gaze fixated on a painting. It is a bleak, impressionistic portrait of a rugged landscape with a massive red gas giant looming on the horizon. On the broken terrain, a few lone figures bow to the planet in the brown and red sky.

"This piece isn't Iconian."

"No." Zey-Ar stands next to her. "The Sy'ar clan collected art from many species."

"I've seen this painting before. This is by Master Graak."

Pon steps toward her. "Captain?"

She turns to the Tellarite. "Probably the most influential artist of the Gorn Classical Age. My husband is very interested in Gorn art." She says to Zey-Ar, "But Master Graak only lived about twenty thousand years ago. I thought you said the Sy'ar clan died out a hundred and twenty five thousand years ago."

"They did. But they left a standing directive to collect significant pieces of galactic art to add to their collection. It is their legacy. And we, their companions, understood their tastes well. In life, they were always pleased with our selections." Zey-Ar's face is expressionless.

Rashid moves closer to the painting. "How did you get it here? Did you travel to Gornar?"

"No. I cannot exist that far from the habitat computer. The computer synthesized the Central Gallery on Gornar here, and I purchased it from a recreation of Graak himself."

"Why pay money for a duplicate of the original when you can make it for free?" Rashid asks.

Zey-Ar pauses. "I believe it was the act of purchasing the piece which assigned it value for the Iconians. The term 'original' had no meaning for them."

"Wait," Pon says. "Are you saying there are still AIs on this planet who are willing to buy things?"

"Yes, Pon," Zey-Ar replies.

Pon looks between them. "Can you get them here?"

"I can, if there is something you wish to auction."

She grins. "Well, yeah, let's do it!"

"What do you wish to sell?"

"Hang on." She moves closer to Rashid and says in a low voice, "I think we can part with a tricorder and phaser, right? I don't think we need to worry about contaminating their culture, and we can get by with one set."

Rashid raises an eyebrow. "Why would they want to buy our equipment? It would be primitive by their standards."

"Leave that to me."

"Alright. But have you ever done an auction before?"

"No. But I understand the basic principles." She shuffles toward Zey-Ar. "Tell the AIs that I'm willing to sell them a priceless memento – rare tools from a primitive society encountering these awe-inspiring Iconian ruins for the first time." She pauses. "It's… uh… a limited offer."

A small crowd of alien beings appears in the corridor, pale white with large eyes and tentacles coming from the back of their heads, all simultaneously indicating interest in buying the items and inquiring about the price.

Pon's eyes widen, and Rashid steps forward to stand beside her. "And also," the Tellarite says to the entities, "A Federation environmental suit." To Rashid, under her breath, she adds, "I highly doubt we'll need it at this point."

"You're probably right." She turns to Zey-Ar. "You can add mine too."

"I'm sorry, Zia," he says. "Your suit was almost completely destroyed during entry. Very little remains of it."

Rashid's jaw tightens. "I see."

Pon turns back to the crowd. "So, uh, a Federation environmental suit, tricorder, and phaser! A one-time deal! So much value! Definitely worth a lot of Currency!"

"Five hundred thousand," one of the entities says.

"Six hundred," says a second one, a split second later.

"Seven."

"Seven point five"

"Seven point five five."

"Seven point five five three."

"Seven point five five eight."

After the lightning-fast exchange is over, all of the beings but one disappear. "I represent the Ty-Et clan. Do you have an Account?"

"Um." Pon casts a desperate look at Zey-Ar, who tells the being, "I am opening an Account for Commander Pon."

"I have transferred the Currency to Commander Pon's Account," the program says. "Please give me the items."

Pon turns to Rashid. "Well?"

"Excuse me? Give him mine?"

"You heard him."

Rashid folds her arms. "I don't think so. This was your idea, Commander."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Pon retorts. "Have you been gradually building and adding upgrades to your tricorder over the course of the entire mission? Because I have. Thus, it's objectively better to give them yours."

Rashid opens her mouth, then closes it. "Alright. But I want to be clear that I am only doing this because it's the best use of our resources. I am your captain, and it is not acceptable for you to sell my things without my permission."

"Well, that's fine. You don't have any more things."

Glaring darkly at Pon, Rashid takes the tricorder and phaser from her hip and gives it to the buyer, and Zey-Ar disappears, then a gateway opens and he emerges carrying Pon's environmental suit. The other entity takes them and vanishes.

Pon says to Rashid, "I have to say, captain, I've changed my mind. Capitalism is great."

"Except for the counterproductively unequal distribution of goods, needless mass impoverishment and inherent instability," Rashid replies sternly. "And also how it essentially guarantees disproportionate influence and power to sociopaths."

"Well, yes. But look at all the money we made selling our junk to those dumb suckers!"

"This is my point." She puts her hand on her hip. "Anyway, we have Currency now. Let's figure out what we can do with it."

"You now have access to the planetary gateway network," Zey-Ar tells them. "Each use of it is eight thousand Currency."

"And it will take us to the actual, physical location we're trying to go, and not another simulation?" Rashid asks.

"Yes. However, many areas are privately owned and may require further Currency to enter."

"What about our ship? If _Icarus_ has repaired herself, can we go aboard?"

"I'm sorry, Zia. Travel offworld requires a minimum of one point five million Currency, and the approval of an Iconian."

Pon grunts. "Ridiculous. It makes no difference to that gateway whether it takes us somewhere on this planet or to my beach house at Lake Barlak on Tellar. The sole reason to have a difference in price is to exclude."

"What other purpose could money serve in a post-scarcity society?" Rashid asks. "Zey-Ar, can we do a scan of the planet to find our crew?"

"A full planet scan is thirty two thousand Currency. However, there are many areas of the planet which cannot be scanned for privacy reasons, and the Romulan may be able to conceal herself from it. For that reason, I have taken the liberty of conducting a physical search of every area of the planet which is accessible to me, and speaking to the computer system of every habitat on Terminus."

"You did? When?"

"I am conducting it right now."

"Physical searches?" Pon asks. "Are there billions of you out there on the planet right now?"

"Approximately one point three trillion." Zey-Ar is silent for a moment. "I believe I have located them. The computer of a habitat on the floor of the Var-Elshak Ocean appears to have been tampered with."

Rashid smiles at Zey-Ar. "Great work. Did you find any sign of Commander Sparks and the others?"

"Only the wreckage of their shuttle. However, I have identified the forty six most likely locations they could be."

"Alright. We'll get Avala and Rylek first. That is very helpful, Zey-Ar – thanks for taking initiative on this."

"It is satisfying to be able to carry out my function," he says.

"Can the gateway take us inside that underwater habitat you mentioned?"

"Yes, Zia. The damage to the computer system appears to have compromised the habitat's gateway permissions subroutines, presumably to allow the Romulan access to the habitat by gateway. However, I cannot exist in other private habitats, and can provide no information about what is inside."

"What about blueprints? Can you tell us the layout of the place, and what we can expect inside?"

"I can access the buyer's guide for habitats of that type," he answers. "It will contain schematics and a virtual tour. However, she could potentially create an environment of her choice inside."

Rashid nods. "I understand. We'll review the schematics and then lay in coordinates for the gateway."

"How much is it for a transphasic wave emitter?" Pon inquires.

Zey-Ar blinks. "A simple tool such as that can be purchased for thirty thousand Currency."

"Great. I'd like to try something with the combadges to get the signal out farther. Could I get a couple different field modulators as well?"

"Yes. Those will be seventeen thousand Currency each."

Pon smiles. "You're a gem."

Rashid turns to her. "I appreciate what you're doing, Pon, but try not to deplete our Account too much. We may need it."

"I'm sure we can figure out a way to make more money." She eyes the captain. "Hey, you sing, right?"

"What?"

Zey-Ar tells her, "I can play any instruments you need, if you wish me to accompany you, Zia."

"I think we could sell it," Pon says. "And trust me, if one of us is going to sing, it's better you than me."

Rashid holds up her hands. "Okay. No. We are not doing that. See what you can do with the combadges, and stand by for transport to the habitat. It's time to get our crew back."

"Aye, captain."

Rashid regards the Tellarite. "And since you sold my phaser, I'm taking yours." She seizes the phaser from Pon's hip.

"…Aye, captain."

* * *

A portal opens in a sunlit field, and Lerex, Avala, and Rylek step through the two-dimensional plane. In front of them is the edge of a cliff overlooking a magnificent vista. From a dozen caverns in the side of an immense black mountain, blazing lava gushes downward for several kilometers, giving off a luminous, smoky haze. It collects in a pool far below the cliff.

"Where are we?" Rylek inquires.

"Romulus," Lerex replies. "The Gal Gath'thong Firefalls."

"That is impossible. Romulus was destroyed sixty years ago."

"And yet here we are." Lerex leads them to a small rectangular hut facing the edge of the cliff.

As they approach, a creature leaps out from behind the structure, hissing angrily. It perches on six spider-like legs, with two long claws on the end of each. Its body is squat and covered in woolly black hair, about a meter in length, and two long stalks jut out towards them. Gaping mouths are open at the end of the stalks, dripping with saliva, with rings of teeth visible deep down the maws.

Avala and Rylek scream. Lerex walks forward, with a hand extended. "Down, Tev! Down!"

The monstrosity crouches before her, retracting its mouths.

"What the hell is that?" Avala demands.

"Tev is a set'leth. He is my animal-friend."

"Your animal-friend…"

The door slides open, and a small child comes out of the hut. She is wrapped in grey cloths, with pointed ears, curly hair, and greenish skin. "Mother!" she says, holding out her hands and toddling towards Lerex.

Rylek and Avala glance at each other, still trying to calm their breathing as the set'leth scuttles back to the other side of the hut, trailing two spindly antennae behind it.

Lerex picks up the child, who points a tiny finger at Avala and Rylek. "Um. Who are those people."

"Aliens, Valis." She looks up at the Starfleet officers. "Come in, come in. I will feed you."

Lerex enters the hut, with Rylek close behind. Avala glances around the side of the hut anxiously, then follows them inside.

The interior is sparsely furnished, with an angular chair and a viewscreen embedded in one wall. Next to it, a computer console is open, and a number of improvised modifications are evident. Through a wide window, the Romulan sun shines in. Remus is visible in the sky close to the sun.

"Do you live here, Lerex?" Rylek asks as the Romulan calls some food from the replicator.

"Yes. My daughter Valis and I." She takes a tray with one hand holding a large, covered bowl and some small dishes. Setting it on a table suspended from a pole hanging from the ceiling, she says. "Eat."

Rylek and Avala stand at the table and spoon some of the thick green soup into their bowls. Rylek tastes a spoonful. "Viinerine?"

"Yes. You have had it?"

"I have. Viinerine has become an increasingly popular dish on Vulcan since Reunification."

"How does mine compare to what you have tried?"

"It is…" Rylek tries another spoonful. "Comparable."

Lerex's expression is indecipherable as she sets Valis in a high chair. Valis puts her fist in her mouth. "Mother, where do the aliens live?"

"They came from a ship," she says, feeding the child.

"Ship," Valis repeats.

"And they went somewhere they shouldn't have gone."

"Why?"

She looks between Avala and Rylek. "Because that is what their kind do."

"Why?"

"We are on a mission of exploration!" Rylek looks earnestly at the child. Avala eats her viinerine, saying nothing, her antennae trained on Lerex warily.

Valis gazes at her mother. "Will they go back to their ship?"

"In fact, we are trying to re-establish contact with our crewmates," Rylek says. To Lerex, "Do you have a communications unit?"

"Yes," Lerex replies. "No. But I can have one. I will make."

"I want them to go back to their ship," Valis says to Lerex.

"They are our guests, Valis," Lerex tells the child.

"So what, is this a hologram?" Avala runs her hand on the table. "Some kind of advanced matter projector technology?"

"We are on Romulus."

"Yes, but you are aware –"

"Yes," Lerex interrupts. "Yes yes yes yes yes. I know." To Rylek, "I will prepare your comm unit."

She opens the window, and Tev crawls inside, his claws clicking on the floor. He climbs the wall and stands motionless, legs reaching from ceiling to floor. Lerex crouches before the computer terminal as Valis plays with her spoon.

Her antennae pointing towards the set'leth, Avala whispers to Rylek, "Let's go outside. I could use some air."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." He follows Avala out the front door, calling to Lerex, "We will return."

They pass through the door, and Avala releases a suppressed shudder. "Why doesn't it have eyes?"

"It is a most unsettling creature." As they walk around the hut to the edge of the cliff, he says, "I appreciate your misgivings toward our host, but she has thus far been quite hospitable."

"Maybe. But does she seem a bit, I don't know, _insane_ to you?" She gestures at the falls. "I mean, what is this? Can the gateways take us back in time?"

"There were many Romulans in the district of ShiKahr where I grew up," Rylek says. "Some of them, especially the elderly, used to spend much of their time in holographic simulations of Romulus."

"Alright, well, what's with her kid? I think she was part Orion."

"I am not certain."

Avala yawns. "I don't even know anymore. I'm so exhausted I can barely think straight. I don't think I've slept in two days. But I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep with that nightmare thing crawling around."

A gust of wind rises from the falls and catches the beige tunics they wear. Avala brushes her white bangs from her eyes.

Rylek steps closer. "Would it be appropriate for me to kiss you again?"

She looks at the ground and smiles, her antennae pointed at him. "It feels like it, doesn't it? You and me, here, in front of the firefalls. It's like a moment from a holo-novel." She stares into his dark eyes. "Okay. You can kiss me."

She presses her body close to his, and he puts his hands on her back and kisses her deeply.

After a moment, she steps back. "I… I'm sorry, Rylek. You know I really, really care for you. I just… I can't do this right now. It's not fair to you. I don't even know what this place is. We're on a planet that doesn't exist. When we get back home, I promise you we will figure out what's going on between us. But until then, I need you to be my crewmate, a Starfleet officer."

"I understand. I merely…" he pauses. "On the hill, before. I was concerned that you would not survive. And I could not stand the idea of never telling you…"

She puts her hand on his arm. "It's alright. I know. When you kissed me, I could feel it. And… I guess I always knew."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lerex standing next to the hut, peering at them, with Valis in her arms. Avala jumps. "How long have you been there?"

"I have made contact with your ship," Lerex says, ignoring her question.

"You have?"

"Yes. Captain Rashid wishes to speak to you. Come with me."

She walks back to the entrance of the hut, and Rylek and Avala follow. Valis looks at them over Lerex's shoulder. "Your ship."

Lerex leads them to the computer screen on the wall near the window, and Rylek follows Avala as she approaches it, her antennae trained on the set'leth still perched on the far wall, motionless.

"Hello Vanda. Rylek." There is an image of Rashid in the command chair on the bridge of _Icarus_ , with Sorensen and Sparks smiling, watching from their consoles.

"Captain. Is that really you?" Avala glances between the screen and Lerex.

"It's me, Lieutenant. We're in a far orbit of Terminus. We've been scanning for you but haven't been able to find you. I've been talking to your Romulan friend, and she's going to use the gateway to take you back to _Icarus_."

Avala turns to Lerex, her eyes narrowed. "You're just going to take us there? Just like that?"

"Well, I certainly don't want you to stay here," she replies. "It's important that I raise my child in the purity of Romulan culture."

Avala opens her mouth in disbelief. "Okay, well, why don't you take us to _Icarus_ right now."

"I will."

"Good." She says to Rashid, "I guess I'll see you momentarily."

"It'll be good to have you back. Rashid out."

The signal ends, and Lerex crouches in front of the computer console and holds her cybernetic hand near it, open. Red beams shoot from her palm and a gateway opens in the center of the room, the _Icarus_ bridge visible through the rectangular rift. Avala approaches it.

Rylek nods to Lerex. "Thank you for your assistance. We owe you a debt."

"You owe me nothing. We are kin." Lerex holds her organic hand in the Vulcan salute. "Peace and long life."

He returns the salute. "Live long and prosper."

Seeing Avala's impatient expression, he walks to the portal. As they pass through it together, Valis waves her small hand. "See you!"

Then they are on the _Icarus_ bridge, and the portal to the hut closes behind them. Pon and Alomar have joined the crew on the bridge, and they begin to applaud, smiling at them.

"Thanks." Avala looks around the bridge, uncertain. "I can't believe it. Just like that. We're back on _Icarus_." She puts her hand on a console. "It's in one piece."

"I keep telling people. Matter projector technology." Pon pounds her fist on a bulkhead. "It's going to change the way we think about space travel."

Rylek looks around at the crew, struggling to keep his expression neutral. "And you were able to return to it."

"Yes," Rashid answers. "Pon and I ended up in an abandoned Iconian luxury property, and a computer-generated entity called Zey-Ar helped us establish contact with the _Icarus_ computer. Pon was able to do a remote beamout."

"It was a thing of beauty," Pon gloats. "And we were also able to get in touch with Isiaiah, Susan, and Tomas. Interrupted their camping trip."

Avala turns to Sparks, who explains, "We spent the whole time in the woods, evading Iconian drones."

"I've had my share of moss for some time," Alomar adds.

"And we were on Terminus all along?" asks Avala. "We were in some kind of holoprogram?"

Rashid says, "It's a similar principle. But instead of holograms, they can simulate the environment on the molecular level."

"I see." Avala hesitates. "So… don't take this the wrong way, but can I borrow a tricorder for a minute?"

"Oh, what, you think _we're_ a simulation?" Pon feigns umbrage. Then she hands Avala her tricorder, grinning. "Don't worry, I often wonder about that myself."

Avala scans the bridge, then herself and Rylek. She shows him the readings, and they exchange a questioning glance.

"Would this simulated reality be distinguishable in any way from a real environment?" Rylek asks.

"It's pretty hard to tell, but you can tell the difference if you know what to look for," Pon tells him. "There's a quantum phase varience their technology creates. I've programmed the tricorder to scan for it."

Avala peers at the device's screen. "Alright. Well, I'm glad to hear it. It's good to be back."

She passes the tricorder back to Pon, who takes it and asks, "Who was the Romulan?"

"I have no idea. I guess she was kind of a hermit, living with her kid and her horrifying pet in a simulation of Romulus. She did not like Andorians, though, I can tell you that." Her antennae point to Sparks, and she says, "Listen, Commander, I want to take full responsibility for disobeying your order. It was a stupid call and it almost got me killed. There is no excuse."

Sparks nods gravely. "Why don't we take a walk."

"Aye, sir."

As he stands, Rashid faces Rylek. "I think we've seen enough of Terminus. Let's get back to the comm beacon and make a report to Starfleet. Mr. Rylek, would you like to do the honours?"

"Yes, captain." He takes the conn and lays in a course.

Rashid leans forward. "Engage."

The ship hums softly, and the stars on the viewscreen turn to streaks as Sparks and Avala enter the transporter. "Deck 3," Sparks says.

As the lift descends, he says to Avala, "So the bad news is there's going to be a hearing. Once we get back to the Federation."

"I understand, sir."

"A panel is going to review what happened," he informs her. "If they find against you, you could be demoted."

She nods, her eyes downcast. "I understand."

The turbolift doors slide open and they enter the corridor running between crew quarters. "The reason we're doing it this way is because it would be a conflict of interest for me to make the decision," Sparks tells her.

"I see."

"The good news is the captain is satisfied with doing it this way, and since we can't really afford to be shorthanded, she's prepared to keep you on active duty pending the hearing."

"I'm very relieved to hear that. Sir. You have my word that for the rest of the mission, everything I do will be according to the highest standards of Starfleet conduct."

"I expect nothing less." They pause in front of her quarters. "It's really good to see you, Vanda."

"You too, sir." She relaxes slightly and meets his gaze. "Thank you, sir."

He smiles slightly. "Get some rest, lieutenant. That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

He walks back to the turbolift and she enters her quarters.

"Ughhh," she groans, rubbing her eyes with her hands. She pulls off the Iconian robe and puts on a comfortable black t-shirt and underwear. She taps a console next to her bed, and a combadge appears next to her bed.

She lays her head against the pillow and watches the dense stars of the Galactic Core streaking past the porthole in her quarters.

After a while, she taps the combadge. "Avala to Rylek."

"Rylek here."

She waits before saying anything. "Where are you?"

"My quarters. Preparing to meditate." He pauses. "Where are you?"

"My quarters. I'm so tired. I want to sleep for three full hours. It will be glorious."

"That is a logical course of action." When she says nothing, Rylek asks, "If I may ask, what did Commander Sparks say?"

"Well, there's going to be a hearing once the mission's over. But until then, I'm still on active duty. Which is good. I have a chance to redeem myself. And he seemed alright personally. Not happy about it, but we'll still be able to work together at least."

"I am pleased to hear that."

"Yeah. And… thanks for having my back."

"Thank you for having mine, Vanda," he says. The line is silent for several seconds. "Do you… wish to come to my quarters?"

She gazes at the stars. "Um. Sure. Do you mind? I mean, I'm so tired. I don't have the energy to… you know…"

"Of course, Vanda. I have no expectations concerning… What I mean is, I merely…" he stammers.

"I know. I don't want to be alone either," she says softly. "I'll be right over. Thanks, Rylek." She gets up and leaves her quarters, and crosses the corridor into his. The room is small and sparsely furnished, with a few pieces of Vulcan art on the walls and his red uniform neatly folded on his bedstand. Rylek is sitting cross-legged on a cushion in front of a candle, wearing a black sleeveless shirt and shorts.

"Thanks," she says. "I feel like we should talk about what happened, but I'm so tired. Is it alright if I just lay down?"

"Please."

She lays down on his bed as he sits in meditation, glancing over at her from time to time.

"Rylek?"

"Yes, Vanda?"

"Do you want to hold me?"

"Of course." He walks to the bed and climbs in behind her, his arm wrapped around her chest.

She presses herself close to him. "Mm. I always forget how strong you are."

Rylek holds her close, saying nothing.

The candle burns low and goes out, and soon the room is illuminated only by streaks of starlight.

Avala finds herself navigating the corridors of _Icarus_ , past empty science labs, their doors open.

From a shadow inside one of the labs, there is movement, and suddenly the set'leth leaps at her, hissing from its gaping maws.

She screams, then opens her eyes from the dream to find herself in bed, with Rylek's arm still around her. The combadge on his bedstand is beeping.

Groggily, she reaches over and taps it. "Avala here."

"Lieutenant?" a garbled voice asks. "Is that you?"

"Pon?" she asks.

"Where are you?"

"My quarters."

"Quarters? Where? In the habitat?"

Avala frowns. "What habitat? I'm on _Icarus_!"

"What?" Pon's voice replies. "No you're not."

"I just saw you on the bridge! I'm in Rylek's quarters."

"Rylek's quarters…? Interesting. But never mind. Listen to me, lieutenant. You're not on _Icarus_. You're in a simulation."

Avala's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"No, this is just a really _gnarfed_ up practical joke. Har har har." Pon mutters something under her breath. "Of course I'm serious!"

"If it's a simulation, how do we get out?" Rylek asks, agitation in his voice.

"I don't know. The captain and I are working on that. Hang on, I'm losing the signal. Stand by." Her voice becomes garbled, and the transmission ends.

Avala sits up and faces Rylek. There is a look of panic in his eyes. "Do you think it is true?"

She nods grimly. "It all seemed a bit too easy. Lerex sending us back to the ship, just like that. Then again, I suppose she could be a simulation as well."

"These simulations… if there is no way of differentiating them from reality, then for all we know…" He stares at her.

She puts her hand on his arm. "I'm not a simulation, if that's what you're thinking. And neither are you."

"How can you know?"

"Trust me, Rylek, I know. The fact that you're real is the only thing I'm sure of." She stands. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

"How?"

"We'll figure it out. Together." She takes his hands. "Are you with me?"

He holds her hands tightly. "Always."

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


	7. Chapter 7

"Doctor, I want to hear your theory on what's affecting the Iconians," Sparks says to Alomar. "We've got an elder and twenty to thirty kids suffering from some kind of unknown illness which coincides with our arrival. We need to figure out what the hell's going on."

Alomar gazes out the window of Ixu's small, sparsely-furnished chamber at the starlit courtyard outside. "All I can do is speculate at this point, commander."

"Could it be the decontamination filters in the transporters? Could we have been infected with something that we brought to them?"

"Sir, the environmental sensors do a full sweep of _Icarus_ every eight hours. I know this because I review the results every day. We've been scanned and sterilized a hundred times since the start of our mission. And, for that matter, we've only been off the ship once in the last month."

"Hm. Could we have picked something up in the jungle?"

Sorensen, sitting on a hard, raised bed, replies, "I don't think it's that. Ixu said the Iconians created this planet. Why add potentially infectious diseases ?"

"It's been a long time," Alomar says. "I suppose even synthetic lifeforms could evolve into something unexpected, given enough time."

Sparks nods. "We'll consider that a possibility. But it still doesn't explain why Ixu and Ctai are unaffected."

"They are healthy adults; the initiates are children and Koshal Vail appears to be quite elderly." Alomar furrows his brow. "But it's also possible that it's not a physiological problem at all."

Sorensen leans forward. "Are you suggesting it's psychosomatic?"

"As I said, without my equipment, all I can do is speculate."

Sparks paces. "Unfortunately, use of our equipment is out of the question right now. It could be the cause of our problems here."

"Captain," Alomar says, "with all due respect, this can't have been caused by our translators. There have been no documented instances of life-forms being harmed by our translators – not a single one."

"I'm not talking about their medical problems, doctor. We've violated their taboos enough already. It's important that we try to salvage this first contact."

"I'm not sure how well it can be salvaged if their elder and children start dying," Alomar replies, testily.

"Well that may be. But for now, we can make an assessment of the situation without using our technology. If and when it's possible for us to use it, I will make that determination."

The woven curtain in the doorway slides to one side and Ctai and Ixu enter the chamber. "I have spoken to the Mathematicians," she tells them. "None are able to reach an accurate prediction of Koshal Vail and the initiates' chance of survival. There is insufficient data to make a calculation."

"Then nothing like this has happened before when your order has made contact with outsiders?" Sparks inquires.

"The Chronicle records many encounters with alien beings." Ixu quickly recites a chant under his breath. "However, there has never been a case where the visitors came with functioning technology."

"That makes sense," Sparks says. "If it wasn't for Starfleet's previous encounter with Iconian cyberweapons, our technology would be disabled as well."

Alomar approaches the Iconians. "And you have experienced no symptoms yet?"

"None." Ctai narrows her eyes. "None save a brief moment of nausea, back in the wilderness when we first encountered you. Ixu experienced it too. But it was a passing moment only, and I have not felt it since."

Alomar looks at Sparks. "Curious."

Sparks nods. To Ixu, "What about the rest of your order? Is there any sign the sickness is spreading?"

"There is not."

"Do they think we caused it?" Sorensen asks.

"That is the inescapable conclusion."

Sparks' expression is grim. "It does appear that way. Please pass on to your order that we are prepared to do anything we can to help."

"To help?" Ctai peers at him.

"Yes. If there's anything at all we can do. We understand that your customs forbid us from using our technology, but if there is anything at all we can do to help understand and cure this sickness, we will do it."

"You misunderstand," she tells him. "We do not seek to cure the sickness. It must be fully experienced."

Alomar frowns. "I thought you said they were being treated by your physicians?"

"It is not the role of a Physician to cure disease, but to allow the sick person to remain lucid so to fully experience the progression of the disease."

The doctor looks perplexed. "But surely that would cause a great deal of needless suffering."

"There is a tale in the Chronicle," Ixu says. "After Shai Kesh left the habitat-cities, she spent one hundred and seventy seven days in contemplation, at which time she came to know the true nature of things. Then she returned to her home to tell her mother what she had learned. But her discourses of profound wisdom did not move her mother at all, and she despaired. Remember that our ancestors' technology allowed them to shape the very reality they experienced. And so everything Shai Kesh said, her mother interpreted in accordance with the world she created for herself. And Shai Kesh realized that her mother never even knew that she left, and in fact that had never met their own daughter. The blind ancestors were like gods, but it is the nature of gods to become trapped in the worlds of their creation." He pauses. "In fact, some of my favourite works of art depict that scene. Shai Kesh kneeling and weeping before her mother as she sits in her bio-chair, staring aimlessly into nothingness, oblivious to her daughter's presence."

Sparks glances at Alomar and Sorensen. He replies, "I appreciate the depth of meaning in that story, but I have to say I don't fully understand its relevance to our current situation."

"Our ancestors never knew pain," the alien says. "The Apparatus allowed them to overcome all forms of suffering, and even death itself. They did not grow old or become ill. Even in the rare occasion where an accident caused them to be fatally injured, their bodies could be recreated instantly. By shunning the technology of the blind ancestors, Shai Kesh became the first Iconian to die in millennia. She taught us that it is only through fully experiencing mortality that we can truly know ourselves as emanations of the Aeon. To suffer and die is the very essence of living beings."

Ctai glances between the humans. "This troubles you."

"It does," Sparks replies. "We believe it's also the essence of living beings to try to protect the survival of their community. To try to understand the world around them for the betterment of all sentient beings."

"You're a mathematician," Sorensen says to Ctai softly. "A scientist. Doesn't it bother you that you have no idea why this is happening to them?"

"It does, Susan. I am deeply troubled. The death of this cohort of initiates would be a grievous loss to the discipline of mathematics. The passing down of the chants would be interrupted." She hesitates. "I do not believe our order has ever faced a calamity on such a scale."

There is a long silence. Then Ixu says, "But we must go. The Koshal wishes to speak to you; I am not certain how much time she has left."

"Very well," Sparks replies.

Ctai turns to Ixu. "I plan to remain, Ixu. I believe that if I work with Susan, we may be able to calculate the cause of this affliction." To Sorensen, "If you are willing."

Sorensen glances at Sparks, who gives her an approving look. "Of course," she says.

"Do you believe that we should seek to alleviate the sickness?" Ixu asks Ctai.

"Shai Kesh taught us to value knowledge above all else."

"Very well. But beware the temptation to make use of the aliens' technology."

"Of course. Technology is blindness."

Ixu glances between Ctai and the humans. "Very well. May the Aeon guide you as you seek knowledge. Come, the Koshal awaits."

Sparks leans close to Sorensen. "We'll plan to meet back here in ninety minutes. Approximately, I suppose."

"Aye, sir."

"Good luck, lieutenant. I haven't given up hope that we might be able to figure out what's going on here."

"Thanks. Yeah, I think you're right."

Ixu, Sparks, and Alomar exit the chamber. Ctai says to Sorensen, "We should go to my quarters. I will prepare a herbal drink which I find focuses my thoughts."

"Sure." She follows Ctai through the curtain into a narrow hallway, slightly curved and lit by overhead electric bulbs, with curtained doorways along both sides.

"You must find it frustrating that we will not permit the use of your technology," Ctai says as they walk.

"I mean, it could tell us things that we otherwise might not be able to find out. I understand that you're not prepared to compromise on your order's principles, though. Part of being a Starfleet officer is respecting the values of the cultures we encounter, even if we don't personally agree with them."

"Without them, we are nothing." They reach a doorway and Ctai pushes the curtain aside. Sorensen follows her in. There are woven tapestries on the wall depicting what appear to be fractal patterns. "These are beautiful," she observes.

"I wove them myself," Ctai says. She turns a switch on a small metal table and places a hand-forged kettle of water on it. "Tell me, Susan, how your universal translator technology works."

"It's a microscopic piece of cybernetic technology which causes me to hear what you say in my own language. The Iconian language is in the database – Starfleet was able to reconstruct it based on other languages in your people's former empire. Since you don't have a corresponding device, it's projecting a unidirectional audio translation of what I'm saying."

"Can you hear what you are saying to me in Iconian?" The water begins to boil, and Ctai places a ball of dark green herb in two clay cups.

"No. It's filtered out by the translator. It's hard to speak naturally otherwise."

Ctai pours the water into the cups and hands one to Sorensen. "You said it did this because I do not have a corresponding device. What would it do if I did?"

"Well, it would try to interface with it on all known channels. To try to form a link between the two devices to exchange linguistic data. All species' translation devices are built to be as universally compatible as possible – otherwise, it defeats the purpose of having one." She sips her drink and nods approvingly. "Why? Is it possible you have some kind of residual translation device? Or maybe some kind of genetic engineering?"

"I do not believe so. According to the Chronicle, when Shai Kesh left the Apparatus, she and her followers purified themselves of all biotechnological enhancement."

"That's consistent with what our tricorders picked up when we scanned you."

"And there remains the fact that I am not affected." Ctai pauses. "At least, not yet."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure we would have seen some sign of that by now."

"I appreciate you saying that, Susan."

They are silent for a long moment. Then, Ctai's tongue darts out and affixes to Sorensen's cheek.

She flinches, and Ctai quickly retracts her tongue and says urgently, "I am sorry. Have I offended you?"

"Oh. Um… no, it's fine, it's just…"

"Yes. I apologize. It had seemed an appropriate time for me to do that. I misjudged the situation."

"No, it's just… I don't really understand that gesture."

She hesitates. "It is a gesture of affection. Of intimacy."

"I see."

"If I –"

"No, it's okay, it's okay." Sorensen takes Ctai's hand. "You didn't misjudge the situation. It's just… I didn't know how to really… it's hard, with a totally different culture…"

Ctai looks down and her two tendril-like fingers curl around Susan's hand. "Our history records only a few individuals who have been intimate with aliens. It is considered a rare privilege and a profound opportunity to know the Aeon in the infinite forms it takes." She leans closer. "And I like you, Susan. Meeting you has enriched my life."

"It's enriched mine too, Ctai." Susan stares into the Iconian's pitch-black eyes. "You can… do that thing again. If you want."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. It's okay."

Ctai's tongue slides out again and grips Sorensen's cheek. She leans in close to the alien, putting her arm around her slender shoulders, and they sit on the hard bed at one side of the chamber.

After a moment, Ctai's tongue retracts. "I do not know how it is with your kind. What would be the next step of a typical mating ritual?"

The human smirks. "I'm sorry, it's just a bit funny the way the translator renders what you just said. But, um. The next stage. Well…" She puts her hand on Ctai's shoulder and gently takes the edge of her tunic. "We could take our clothes off. You know, if… if that's alright."

"Yes. We can do that."

Sorensen tries to unwrap Ctai's robe, then hesitates. "Um. How do I…"

"Let me. It is more complicated than it looks."

"Oh. Okay, sure." She puts her index finger the shoulder of her blue Starfleet uniform, near the collar, and runs her finger down her side. A seam opens along the path of her finger, and she disrobes.

Then she looks up at Ctai standing naked before her, and stares at the graceful curves of the alien's pale body. Her skin is milky and partially translucent, and dark grey veins can be seen underneath, pulsing slightly.

Ctai stares back at her. "At this stage in our rituals, I might tell you that you are beautiful. And you are. I have never seen one of your kind naked before, but I know."

Sorensen blushes. "I guess it's not that different. You're beautiful too, Ctai."

"In you, I see the beauty of the Aeon."

"Thank you," she whispers. She presses her body against Ctai's and puts her hand on her side.

The Iconian looks down. "But we are quite physiologically different. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"We're scientists," Sorensen replies, smiling. "We'll find a way."

* * *

Ixu leads Alomar and Sparks to the gates of the large dome at the center of the Cenobium grounds. "We are about to enter the Great Sanctum. You will need to deactivate your technology."

Sparks and Alomar activate the neural interfaces on their translators and shut them off. "Done," Sparks says. Ixu stares at him, a look of incomprehension on his face.

" _Alash-kath tai mon'at_ ," he says to them in Iconian. He turns to the ornate wooden door which towers over them and pushes it open. They follow him through a corridor lit by electric globes on the ceiling, illuminating dark stone walls engraved with glyphs depicting various astronomical phenomena. Alomar regards an intricate carving of a planet orbited by three moons.

" _Aikonai,_ " Ixu says.

"Iconia?" Sparks asks.

He does not answer, and continues to lead them through several corridors, some leading upward.

Sparks slows as he passes a detailed glyph of an enormous black hole surrounded by a ring of ionized gas and thousands of tiny stars swirling around it. "Look at this," Sparks says to Alomar in Spanish.

The doctor looks closer. Superimposed over the black hole, an Iconian skull is visible.

"I wonder if that is a depiction of the black hole at the centre of the Core?" the doctor speculates.

"I don't know," Sparks replies. "The scale could be right. Sagittarius A* is quite a distance from here. But I suppose their ancestors had mapped the entire galaxy." He pauses. "Do you hear that?"

As they walk up the gently ascending corridor, a muffled droning sound becomes audible, insistent and low. It increases in volume as they follow Ixu upwards. Then he opens a door, and they step out into a vast, open chamber.

The wide, circular space is full of Iconians chanting at a loud volume. Some stand on a raised circular platform at the center of the space, surrounded by stairs, and others kneel on the tessellated floor around the platform, which dips gently toward the center of the room like a great dish. High above, the dawn light streams through slats in the great dome arching above them, which is painted with what appear to be narrative images of Iconians in contemplation. Dark blocks sit on the raised platform in the center of the room, with young Iconians lying prone on them, and other Iconians kneeling around, their chanting lost in the din.

Ixu opens his mouth and joins the chant, the alien syllables interweaving in dizzying patterns with the complex rhythms of the chanting. He leads them onto the platform between the small, sick Iconians toward a block at the far end of the space.

On it, Koshal Vail lies on her back, her skin pallid.

Ixu walks to her side and places his hand on her shoulder, saying something in Iconian in a low voice.

Vail opens her eyes, and they focus on Sparks and Alomar. " _Ctanat val elet-ai,_ " she says to Ixu.

" _Jital vai-en._ "

" _Mal kelet Koshal-atai-an._ "

Ixu bows his head, then helps the elder to her feet. She stands, trembling, her arm wrapped around him, and faces the humans. Ixu gestures at them and then points at a doorway on a nearby wall of the chamber.

"I think they want us to follow," Sparks says to Alomar in a low voice as Ixu guides Vail towards the door.

Alomar watches the elder closely as she walks with trembling steps, supported by the younger Iconian. They follow as Vail leads them to a small chamber lit by globes which illuminate the carvings on the wall.

" _Ta tal-a_ ," Vail says to Ixu. He lets her go, faces the Starfleet officers again, then steps outside the room. Vail seems to beckon towards Sparks, and he walks towards her.

Vail reaches for the side of Sparks' head and clutches his earlobe, then points towards her mouth.

Sparks glances back at Alomar, who says, "She wants you to use your translator."

"Do you think…? Ow." Sparks winces as the elder grips his ear tightly. He activates the neural interface on the translator. "Do you want to talk to us?"

"Yes." Vail clutches Sparks' arm. "You must help them."

"We're doing all we can, Elder," Sparks says to her. "We understand that your species values –"

"No," Vail hisses. "You must use your technology."

Alomar says, "We had been under the impression that you rejected the use of technology."

"Those are the rules of the Order," the elder replies. "But what use are they when our children are dying?" Her eyes are wide. "You cannot allow that to happen."

Sparks lowers his voice. "You're asking us to violate the prohibition on the use of technology?"

"I have been a member of this order for all my life," Vail says, her voice weak. "We exist according to rules we have made for ourselves. And according to those rules, we have survived while the rest of our species ceased to be. That fact alone attests to their correctness." She spasms, then regains control. "The purpose of our rules is to deepen our understanding of what it is to be living beings. And I understand that to live is to sicken and ultimately die. I recognize the importance of mortality. Truly, I do."

Sparks and Alomar watch the wizened alien slides down the wall to the floor. They reach to steady her, but she rejects their help and settles in a crouching position. "But you Federation. You have no such prohibitions on technology. You can prevent this tragedy from happening to the children." She wheezes. "You must."

Sparks and Alomar glance at each other. "Would your people accept it?" Sparks replies, his brow furrowed.

"The other elders would never allow it. It would violate everything our order holds most sacred. But what use is the sacred when our children are dying?" She hesitates, her eyes staring into space. "What happens when our beliefs fail to bind our community together, and instead condemn our children?" She coughs. "I have no use for such rules. Perhaps I will never know my true nature as an emanation of the Aeon. But I would prefer my students to live. Surely that does not make me any less of a living being." Her voice grows weak. "Please. You must."

Alomar takes her hand and moves his face close to hers. "I can help you. Our technology may be able to help you too. Just stay with me."

""Help my students. You must…"

Then Koshal Vail is still. Alomar fumbles on her neck to find her pulse. "Come on!" He clenches his fist. "Damn it!"

"There's nothing you can do, doctor," Sparks tells him.

Alomar looks up from the dead Iconian. "Well, you heard what she said. We need to get to our technology."

Sparks stares at the corpse. "Ixu said the order would store our equipment when we got here. But even if we knew where to find it, I don't know if her opinion was representative of the community."

Alomar narrows his eyes. "It was her dying wish."

"That may be, but until we hear otherwise from the representatives of their order, our hands are tied."

"Sir, we need to help them!"

"I appreciate your opinion, doctor, but my decision is final. We have to respect their cultural norms, and it seems like it's the opinion of the majority –"

"Sir –"

"The opinion of the majority of the community that we observe their taboo on the use of technology," Sparks continues, his voice raised. "It is extremely important that we respect that."

"Damn it, Isaiah, children are going to die!" Alomar replies, gesturing emphatically towards the temple.

"I'm aware of that, Tomas. But we are here as representatives of the Federation, and what we do is going to set the foundation for the relationship between our peoples. We are defining for them what the Federation is about, regardless of what our personal preferences may be! The Prime Directive applies –"

"the Prime Directive is about non-interference with pre-technological societies!" Alomar shouts. "This is a post-technological society."

"The Prime Directive is a guiding principle that affects everything we do! It is the very foundation of Starfleet's mission. We can't just subvert entire cultures based on what we think is best!"

"I've taken an oath too, commander: the Hippocratic Oath. First, do no harm. We caused this! We have to help them!"

"Look, I appreciate that, doctor," Sparks says, holding up his hands. "I really do. But I'm not asking you to trust _me_ on this. You also took an oath to Starfleet. And it's my opinion, as your commanding officer, that the best interpretation of Federation directives in this situation is to respect their rules. And I'm asking you to respect that. To respect Starfleet's procedures. Not me personally."

Alomar and Sparks stare at each other for a tense moment, saying nothing. Then the doctor says, "That may have been your problem with Vanda. You allowed it to get too personal."

Sparks looks at the ground. "Yes, you're absolutely right about that. It was a mistake to get involved with her. I see that now."

"But you are a human being," Alomar says, his stance relaxing somewhat. "It can be hard sometimes to see things objectively."

"That's why we have rule of law."

Alomar nods.

Sparks says, "My commanding officer on Deep Space 9, Yaaren Benjamin, told me that at the start of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, most Cardassians genuinely believed they were helping the Bajoran people. They thought they were freeing the Bajorans from what they viewed as a culture based on backwards superstition. If we don't live our values in everything we do, we're no different."

"I understand. But I hope you are right about this." He crouches over Vail's body, lifting one of her hands and examining it. "Strange."

"What is it?" Sparks crouches next to him.

Alomar touches the side of Vail's face. "I'm not certain, but if I were to guess, I'd say she suffered some form of acute cellular degradation."

"What could cause that?"

"Radiation would be the most obvious explanation, but it could also be caused by cancer of some kind. Or even a viral infection." He puts his hands on her neck and chest. "I don't know much about her physiology, but I think I've found what might be small tumours."

"Maybe they have a sensitivity to radiation. Could we have been irradiated somehow?"

"Perhaps. But if it were radiation, we would expect to see the effects increase from prolonged contact with us. Ctai and Ixu have been in proximity to us the longest, yet they're unaffected, while we were only in contact with the initiates for a few minutes."

"They reported experiencing nausea when they first met us."

"That's true, but they also said it was only momentary." He scowls. "None of this makes any damn sense."

There are footsteps, and they look up to see Ixu approaching.

"The Koshal is dead," Alomar informs him, climbing to his feet.

Ixu bows his head. "A great loss. But a life well-lived. I will inform the Morticians to prepare the funerary rites."

"There's something else," Sparks tells him. "Before she died, Koshal Vail requested that we make use of our technology to try and help the initiates."

"I am not surprised by that," he replies. "The Koshal was known for her unorthodox application of our order's rules. And I believe she felt responsible for what was happening to the initiates." He pauses. "I expect you are in agreement with her."

Alomar opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. Sparks explains, "That is what we would ordinarily do. But Starfleet's Prime Directive prevents us from subverting the cultural norms of other species."

Ixu stares at Vail's body for a long moment. "I understand her perspective. But if we revert to the ways of the blind ancestors for this situation, where would it end?" He looks up. "But I remain hopeful that there is another way. I have always found Ctai to be deeply insightful; it may be that she and your Dr. Sorensen have come to an understanding of what is happening. Let us rejoin them and inform them of what has happened."

They turn to leave. Alomar says, "And if they haven't?"

"Then the Grief Chants will sustain and unite our order in the face of this great tragedy." He hesitates. "I hope it will be enough."

Alomar and Sparks say nothing.

* * *

"Oh my God." Sorensen sits upright on the hard bed. "The computer weapon."

Ctai sits up next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. "What computer weapon?"

"Well, you said when your order encountered other aliens, their translator technology was always disabled. The Federation has encountered Iconian technology before, so our engineer inoculated our systems with a modified version of an Iconian computer weapon which one of our ships encountered on your homeworld. We weaponized it to use against those spheres that attacked us before. We disabled one after disconnecting it from the central network. But another sphere reconnected it, and it was able to neutralize our cyberattack." She pauses. "You and Ixu… you did something with the spheres."

"Yes. We recited an Incantation."

"What exactly is that?"

"It is not known how the incantations are able to affect the Apparatus." Ctai widens her eyes. "Do you think that your translator somehow passed the weapon on to us?"

"Maybe. But that wouldn't make sense, unless you have some cybernetic components that we don't know about."

Ctai's eyes narrow. "But if that is the case, then it is possible that we unwittingly interfaced with the Apparatus when we recited the incantation."

"That would explain how you were able to order the spheres to leave."

"If that is the case, then we may be able to help the initiates." She slides forward. "If they are also able to interface, it may neutralize the weapon."

"I think that's the best theory we've had yet." Sorensen puts on her uniform undershirt, then turns back to face Ctai. "Listen. I'm really glad this happened. That I met you." She takes Ctai's hand and squeezes it.

"And I as well, Susan. I hope that if our hypothesis is successful, we will be able to spend more time together."

"I'd like that." She finishes dressing. "But we should go – Commander Sparks and the others will be waiting."

Ctai wraps herself in her robe, and takes Sorensen's hand one more time. Then Sorensen follows her out of her chamber.

When they arrive at Ixu's chamber, Ixu, Sparks, and Alomar are waiting.

"Koshal Vail has died," Ixu tells Ctai.

Ctai is silent. "I'm sorry," Sorensen says, putting her hand on Ctai's back.

The Iconian looks pained. "She led a great life, and is at one with the Aeon. But she will be greatly missed by the Mathematicians."

"By all of us," Ixu says.

After a moment, Sorensen says in a low voice, "Listen. Ctai and I have a theory on what's happening to them. It may not be too late to save the initiates."

Sparks strokes his beard. "Let's hear it."

"Pon's program. The one that disabled the probes. Pon inoculated all of our equipment with it, including the universal translators. I think we transmitted the program and it's somehow physically attacking them. But Ixu and Ctai interfaced with the spheres when we first met them, and the central Iconian network may have neutralized the program. I think they have some kind of residual cybernetic implants."

"An intriguing possibility," Alomar replies. "But everything I've seen has been consistent with cellular damage. So unless…" He trails off, then turns to Ixu. "Wait. Earlier, you said that your ancestors could create new bodies for themselves if their old bodies died. Were they… synthetic, in any way?"

"Synthetic…?"

"Yes. When we first met you, the tricorder read you as organic, but there's quite a lot about this planet that we don't fully understand. Including yourselves. You could appear fully organic to us, but in reality, be something quite different."

"We have always thought ourselves to be fully organic," Ixu says. "You believe otherwise?"

"If your physical existence was maintained by computer algorithms, it would explain why you would be affected by a modified computer weapon. Any disruption of the algorithm would affect you on the cellular level."

"Our ancestors had computer systems which existed on multiple levels of subspace," Ctai tells them. "They may not have been visible to your instruments."

Sorensen stares into space. "Subspace nanotechnology. If that was somehow incorporated into the molecular structure of everything on this planet, it would explain how it could all exist without the need for massive replicators or matter projector units."

"Let me ask you this," says Alomar to the Iconians. "If your ancestors didn't die natural deaths, what ultimately happened to them? And when?"

"According to the Chronicle, each created their own reality, which was hermetically sealed from each other Iconian, and no pain or discomfort could reach them."

"When?"

Ixu pauses to think. "According to the Chronicle, this final stage of the blind ancestors' civilization was approximately one hundred twenty five years ago. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yes, the translator renders it into a quantity of time that's intelligible to us." Sparks gestures toward Ixu. "But if they could replicate organic bodies, they must have had the ability to scan and store neural patterns at the quantum level. With that kind of technology, what use are physical bodies at all?"

"The Chronicle is unclear on the precise fate of the blind ancestors," Ixu says. "They simply ceased to be."

"A computer whose purpose was to generate physical bodies would not be able to understand a being that had transcended physical form," Alomar observes. "If the first members of your order were generated by such a system, they might not have known why there were no other living Iconians on Terminus in a corporeal form."

"There is a tradition which holds that Shai Kesh emerged from the Apparatus after the other Iconians were long dead," Ixu says. "I have never believed it, as it would mean that many of the stories of her life and family were allegorical. But if what you say is true, and she was generated by the Apparatus…"

"Then our true ancestors were not the Iconians at all," Ctai continues, "but their technology. We were born from the Apparatus."

"If that's the case, then your ancestors, and indeed this entire planet, were coextensive with their technology, with no meaningful way of differentiating between the organic and the synthetic," Alomar adds.

Sorensen looks between the Iconians. "And if the initiates interface with the Apparatus, our cyberweapon will be neutralized."

"But if we originated as artificially-generated lifeforms, is it not more important that we experience life as organic beings as fully as possible?" Ixu asks. "It is surely not enough to be living beings only when it is comfortable to do so."

Sparks steps forward, a determined look on his face. "That's true. But one of the most fundamental things about being a living being is to have compassion. To be able to understand the suffering of our fellow beings, and to try to help them. It's easy to look at suffering and see it as an inevitable part of life. And for many chapters of human history, we did just that. But ultimately, the most influential people in our history, the ones who really taught us what it means to live, are the people whose compassion drove them to take responsibility for the common good of their fellow beings. That's what the Federation is about – constantly striving to create a galaxy that is better for all living beings. And for us, that is the most human thing we can do. It is what defines us."

"Having come back from the brink of death will provide a unique knowledge for these initiates," Ctai adds, facing Ixu.

Ixu is silent for a moment. "Very well," he says. "I am in agreement. I will propose this course of action to the elders and the parents of the initiates. We will recommend that they recite an Incantation, in hopes that it will neutralize the cyberweapon."

"You're making the right choice," Sparks assures him.

"Ctai and I will assist them with the Incantations. You may join us, Federation, but you must disable your translators again."

"We understand."

Ctai says to Sorensen, "Let us hope we are successful."

The Starfleet officers follow the Iconians across the still, sunlit courtyard, deactivating their translators.

"Habla Espanol?" Sparks asks Sorensen.

She shakes her head and says in Federation Standard, "I was never very good at languages."

"Your accent is most curious," Alomar says to her. "What is your first language? English? Swedish?"

"Moonspeak," she says. "My family was among the earliest lunar settlers."

Sparks raises an eyebrow. "That explains why you have trouble with languages. I find Moonspeak to be the most baffling language I've ever encountered."

They reach the central dome and follow the Iconians through the great doorway and ornately carved corridors, eventually reaching the central chamber, their ears beset by the complex rhythms of the hundreds of chanting Iconians.

Ctai and Ixu untie the tentacles at the backs of their heads, which spread out and curl forward. They raise their hands and shout, " _Bo-alath ctalat Shai Kesh foram-ush!_ "

The chanting ceases, its echoes reverberating in the high reaches of the dome.

A group of elderly Iconians steps forward, flanked by younger Iconians in groups of two and three, with looks of deep sadness recognizable on their faces.

One of the elders says something to them in Iconian. Ixu replies, speaking loudly in a slow, measured tone, so that all present can hear. He gestures towards the humans as he speaks, then reaches towards the sky and bows his head.

The other Iconians confer among themselves. Ctai looks over her shoulder at Sorensen and whispers something in Iconian. Sorensen smiles back at her.

Then one of the elders steps forward and speaks to Ixu and Ctai in a loud voice. He gestures towards the initiates lying on the blocks behind him. Then he walks forward to Sparks with a look of curiosity. He puts his hand on Sparks' shoulder.

" _Tal va-oth_ ," he says. Sparks meets the alien's gaze.

Then the elder steps back toward the group and they move to encircle the blocks. Some of the Iconians take the hands of the frail-looking initiates.

Ixu steps close to Sparks and puts his hand on the side of Sparks' face near his ear. Sparks activates his translator.

"The elders have agreed," Ixu says. "They concur that if we can save the initiates through contact with the Apparatus, we must try."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I told them what you told me. That it is the nature of living beings to try to alleviate the suffering of other beings."

"But they are concerned that it may be too late," Ctai says. "The initiates may be too weak to chant."

"So what are you going to do?" Alomar asks.

"All we can do," Ixu tells him. "We will guide them through the Forty-Second Incantation. It has rarely been used, but it calls the Apparatus from afar."

"Very well. Is there any way we can help?"

"Stand with us," Ctai says. "Demonstrate your compassion for your fellow living beings."

"Of course," Sparks answers. They deactivate their translators and follow Ctai as she stands over a stricken initiate, who Sparks recognizes as the one who served their food and drink. Ctai takes the youth's hand and begins to chant, " _Thanar aikonai t-ze-an shalesh…_ "

The youth does not respond at first. As the officers watch, his lips gradually begin to move. Then he begins to recite along with Ctai and the other gathered Iconians, weakly at first, but eventually gaining strength.

After approximately twenty minutes, the young Iconians are chanting at a loud volume with their older kin, and their skin has changed from a dull grey to a brighter shade of white. There are recognizable looks of joy on the Iconians' faces.

Ctai stops chanting and embraces Sorensen, speaking in her language in a low voice. Ixu approaches them and leads them away from the crowd towards a doorway. He taps the side of his head, and the officers reactivate their translators.

"It was a success. The initiates are recovering." He pauses. "Thank you, Federation. You have done a great service for our order this day. Although all were prepared to stand by the initiates through their journey to death, it would have caused great pain to all of us."

"We're happy to have been of assistance," Sparks tells him.

"Particularly since this was ultimately our doing," Alomar adds. "I regret that we could not save Koshal Vail."

"There are none who hold you personally responsible. It simply happened."

Ctai says, "The Koshal of the Artisans has agreed to construct a radio transmitter for you. It can be completed by end-of-day."

"We appreciate that," Sparks replies. He looks at Sorensen and Alomar. "In the meantime, I think we could all use some rest."

"Of course," Ctai says. "Chambers will be prepared for you."

Alomar looks pensive. "If I may ask – did the rest of your order become aware that they may be computer-generated replicas of the Iconians rather than their biological descendants? Are they troubled by the implications of that discovery?"

"It will be discussed for many generations to come, to be sure," Ixu answers. "Ultimately, perhaps it is immaterial. It is said that when our order renounced the ways of the ancestors, the most difficult loss was the great potential for communication that they had. Which, of course, they did not use. But I believe that what has kept our order alive for all these millennia is our ability to communicate with each other. The music of the chants binds each of us together in a deeper way than if we were interconnected within a computer system. I suppose that is what truly changed when we left the Apparatus. We are still drawn to be connected – only the means has changed."

Ctai has a faraway look in her eyes. "It is said that each part of the Apparatus serves a specific role, like an equation of great complexity. Perhaps we are not as separate from the Apparatus as we believe. Perhaps we are the part of the Apparatus that seeks to understand its own nature as part of the cosmos."

"I think that means we have a lot in common." Sparks massages his temples and yawns. "Alright, let's go. We'll want to be well-rested when we try to make contact with the captain; I have a feeling that getting to her won't be a straightforward matter."

He and Alomar follow Ixu out of the dome, and Ctai and Sorensen walk behind them, discreetly holding hands. The dome echoes with the sounds of the Iconians' joyful songs.

 **TO BE CONCLUDED...**


	8. Chapter 8

_Captain's Log, supplemental. Through use of the Iconian gateway system, Pon and I have reached a habitat deep in one of Terminus' oceans where we believe Avala and Rylek have been taken. Their captor appears to be Romulan, and for reasons we don't understand, they've been placed in a simulation where they've returned to_ Icarus. _We've made contact with them but are having difficulty maintaining the signal._

"Any luck?" Captain Rashid asks, examining her surroundings. They are in an underwater garden atop a habitat similar to 45 Exai, perched on the edge of a deep trench which plunges into darkness. The sun's light casts dim rays through the dark water above their heads. The garden is lit by phosphorescent corals, some as tall as trees, casting the garden in pale blues and greens. They are surrounded by a dome of air bounded by an invisible field.

"None yet." Pon scowls at a jury-rigged component on her tricorder and adjusts it aggressively.

"What exactly is the problem?" Rashid walks to the edge of the dome, examining the still, vertical surface of the water where it meets the air.

"Hard to explain. It's like they're here, but they're also not here, because here stops being here. Hard to get a signal through that. Almost like trying to send a message to a parallel universe. Which I've done, by the way. Not easy."

Rashid reaches her hand forward to touch the surface of the water. It recedes from her touch, forming a bubble of air around her hand several centimeters from her skin. Slowly, she steps through the surface, and the bubble grows to surround her, connected to the dome by a path formed wherever in the underwater garden she walks.

"They didn't seem to believe me when I told them they were in a simulation," Pon observes.

Rashid returns into the dome and the bubble disappears behind her. "It's probably quite a frightening situation to be in. It would seem completely real to them – they'd have no way of detecting otherwise." She steps closer to look over Pon's shoulder at the tricorder. "Do you have any idea where they are?"

"Well, I'm not reading them anywhere, but there are some areas on this habitat that I can't get any read on, and I think that's where they may be. Actually, the largest area is right over there, on the other side of this terrace." She gestures to the west, where a faint green glow can be seen in the distance, past the reef.

"Let me take a look at that." Rashid takes the tricorder from Pon's hand. "Wow. Those are some strange readings. Do you know what it almost looks like?"

Pon nods. "Some kind of localized micro-universe."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

Rashid puts her hand on her phaser. "Well, keep trying to reach them. But we should be prepared to go in there. Let's get a closer look."

She approaches the edge of the dome again and steps into the water, once again surrounded by a thin film of air. Pon follows close behind, still engrossed in the tricorder.

"Assuming we can get in," the captain continues, "we'll have to be able to get out again. We should keep the gateway open while we search for them. But we also need to find a way of knowing for sure whether we _are_ out, and not still in the simulated reality."

"I'll try, but I don't think that should be our highest priority." Pon does not look up from the instrument.

"Why not?"

"Well, what's the worst-case scenario? We think we've escaped but we haven't, but have no way of knowing, and presumably live out our lives never being the wiser? What's the difference?"

Rashid raises an eyebrow. "Well, your kids, for one thing. Our families would think we were dead."

"Yeah, but we'd never know."

"And second, it isn't real. It's a simulation. Remember before, when they simulated your mud and you said it wasn't the same as the real thing?"

Pon eyes Rashid. "Well, that's different."

"How is it different?"

"It's mud. It's different."

A pale green dome looms before them. As they approach it, there is a beep from Pon's combadge, which is attached to her tricorder through one of the modified add-ons.

Rashid looks quizzically at the Tellarite, who taps the badge. "Pon here."

"….Commander?" a voice crackles. "Can you hear me?"

She steps toward the Tellarite. "This is Captain Rashid. Who is this?"

Pon adjusts the configuration of the tricorder and the signal clarifies somewhat. "Captain, it is good to hear your voice. Commander Sparks here."

She smiles. "Isaiah. It's good to hear from you too. Where are you?"

Standing in a cramped chamber near the top of the central dome of the Cenobium, near a window offering a high view of the surrounding jungle, Sparks grins at Alomar and Sorensen. "We've made contact with an Iconian civilization here, captain – a monastic community. They've given us access to a radio transmitter. I'm here with Susan and Tomas, in the wilderness on the large continent. We got separated from Vanda and Rylek."

"We know; we believe they're being held captive by a Romulan. We've located them and are trying to make contact."

"You did! I'm glad to hear that."

Over the faint static of the hand-wrought radio speaker, they hear Pon say in a low voice, "I don't think it's actually them."

Sparks leans forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't copy that?"

"You're not going to asks us for some Currency, are you?"

Sparks exchanges confused looks with the two officers. "No…?"

They hear Rashid say something inaudible in a stern whisper. "It's a long story, commander. Listen: we've gained limited access to the Iconian gateway system. Right now we can use it planetside, but assuming the auto-repair sequence worked, we may be able to use the gateways to get back to _Icarus_. We would need a large amount of Iconian currency and permission from an Iconian."

"Well I haven't seen any sign of use of currency by these people, but we've developed a good rapport with them and I think they'll be willing to help us out."

"Good. I'm glad to hear first contact went well – good work, all of you."

"Thanks, captain. We had a few problems but we managed to work them out together. I'll fill you in later."

Rashid nods. "Understood. Try to use the radio transmitter to make contact with _Icarus_."

"Should be possible if we can get enough signal. What's your status?"

"We're going to try to get Avala and Rylek out of what seems to be an artificially-generated micro-universe. We'll try to maintain contact. So stand by for now – we'll set up a gateway to transport you to the capital city. We can use the central gateway there to transport to _Icarus_."

"Aye, captain. Good hunting."

"You too, commander." She reaches an open hand toward the glowing green dome before her. "Rashid out."

Sparks examines the transmitter, adjusting the configuration of the ornate knobs. "Sparks to _Icarus_. Requesting your status." He ends the transmission and says to Sorensen and Alomar, "It may take a few minutes depending on the ship's position. Let's stand by for now, and we'll re-adjust it if we need to."

"I must ask," Alomar says to Sorensen, "and by all means, you may refuse to answer. You and Ctai…?"

Sorensen looks between them, blushing slightly. "It's alright, doctor – it's not a secret. I… uh… hope I haven't violated any protocols."

"It's alright," Sparks reassures her. "You're part of a long line of explorers. Required some creativity though, I bet."

She hesitates. "Yeah."

Alomar smiles. "As far as I know, my husband and I are the first Xeleth-human couple. It's been a rather interesting journey, to say the least. But endlessly rewarding."

"This is the first time I've been with a non-human." She pauses. "Well, there was a Vulcan once. But I don't think that counts – humans and Vulcans have been interbreeding for hundreds of years, so that path is well-trodden." She looks between them and quickly adds, "It wasn't Rylek."

"What about you, commander?" Alomar inquires. "During your time in the Gamma Quadrant?"

"I had some encounters," Sparks replies. "But for most of that time, I was dating a Bajoran woman. You want to talk about challenges – you'd think being with a Bajoran would be a lot like being with a human. But I can tell you it is quite different."

Alomar raises an eyebrow. "I am intrigued."

"Well, there's this…" Sparks is interrupted by the crackling of the radio speaker. A female voice can be heard. "This is _Icarus_. The auto-repair cycle is complete. I'm in a geosynchronous orbit seventeen million four hundred fifty six thousand kilometers directly above your location."

Sparks smiles. "Copy that, _Icarus_. Stand by for instructions."

" _Icarus_ has rebuilt itself!" Alomar says. "Imagine. I am reminded of the philosophical puzzle of the ship of Theseus. Is it still the same ship if every component has been replaced?"

"It's an interesting question, doctor, but for now I'll be happy if it can get us away from this planet." To Sorensen, "You should get Ctai and see if she can help us access the central gateway. We'll stay here and wait to hear back."

"Yes, sir."

"And Susan? You can take your time. We'll get you if we need you."

She smiles. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

"But how do we know the signal was the real Pon?" Avala asks as she paces Rylek's quarters in her nightclothes. "What if we're on the real _Icarus_ , and this is just the Iconian security system trying to lure us back to the planet?"

"A troubling prospect." Rylek is sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed. "However, that would not be consistent with what we have observed of Iconian technology. Thus far, it has tended to use more direct means of control, and has been uninterested with communicating with us."

Avala frowns. "She did this. Lerex did. She never wanted us to get off this planet."

"I am not certain of that. I see no logical reason why she would want to confine us."

"Come on, Rylek. She's not like the Romulans who live on Vulcan. The nomadic castes only care about strength and dominance. She can control us this way."

There is a pale green shimmering and Rashid and Pon seem to step through thin air into the room. Rashid smiles when she sees them. "Lieutenant. Ensign. We're here to get you out of this place."

Avala's antennae extend toward them. "That sounds good to me, captain. Is… is it really you?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," Pon says, examining her tricorder. "Seems like it. But I suppose there's no real way of knowing."

Rashid looks between them. "Are you alright?"

Rylek nods. "Yes, captain. We… had some difficulties, but we do not currently appear to be in any danger."

"How do we get out of here?" Avala asks.

"Well, that's kind of an interesting question," Pon tells her. "We're in a micro-universe outside of normal spacetime. But I think if I recalibrate the deflector array to emit an inverted transphasic variance field, we may be able to depolarize the subnucleonic field structure of this universe, causing a rift in the local spacetime, and I may be able to beam us back into our universe."

"Kind of like being buried in the snow and digging yourself out," Avala says.

"No, because if you were digging, you'd be…" she pauses. "Never mind, it's too complicated. Suffice to say we need to get to Engineering." She faces the wall near the porthole. "Computer: access panel."

A computer terminal appears in the wall and Pon begins keying in a series of codes. "What are you doing?" Rashid asks.

"Locking the crew out of the main computer so they don't try to stop us," Pon says while working.

"No! Don't do that. We can find a less aggressive way to do this."

Pon glowers at the captain. "We can try asking them if you like, but I can tell you right now that if there's a duplicate of me in Engineering, she's going to think I'm the duplicate and there's no way she'll give me access to deflector control for such a crazy procedure." She grunts. "And what about the time when we first got into the Core when we found your future self? You weren't about to give her free rein on the ship. I don't know about you, but I'd like to spend as little time _gnarfing_ around in here as possible. Captain."

Rashid looks exasperated. "Alright, point taken. Let's just get this over with." She turns to Avala and Rylek, who are putting on their uniforms. "I realize that everyone in this simulation probably feels real to you, and I'm not going to order you to take up arms against them. But if we fail, you need to convince them to undertake Pon's procedure. The specifications are on her tricorder."

"We'll have to convince them that they're part of an artificially-created universe," Avala says, hesitation in her voice.

"I realize that. But staying here isn't an option."

"Good luck," Pon adds wryly as she enters her access codes.

She glances to Rylek, then faces Rashid. "We're with you, captain."

"Good. Let's get going." She draws her phaser, then leads her crew into the corridor outside Rylek's quarters. As they leave, the lights dim and a klaxon sounds, and a strip along the wall glows a dull red.

"That got their attention," Rashid says. They run down the short corridor and reach the turbolift, and Rashid taps the access panel. They wait for a moment and she taps it again.

"The other me is probably trying to lock us out of ship functionality," Pon says.

Then they hear the sound of a hatch being opened at the far end of the corridor. Rashid gestures to a nearby door. "Get to cover."

She draws her phaser and fires a warning shot at the entry to the Jeffries tube, and the hatch quickly draws shut. She dives through the doorway as a return blast of phaser fire strikes the turbolift door behind her.

The door closes behind Rashid and her eyes dart around the inactive holodeck. Avala and Rylek rush to her side.

"We should trap them in a holodeck program where they think they've captured us," Pon chuckles. "See how long it takes them to figure it out."

"I have a better idea." Rashid steps back towards the door, phaser drawn, and makes a shot down the corridor after a split-second glance, then immediately darts back into the holodeck. Her shot fells her duplicate as she runs along the port side of the corridor, head down. Sparks, close behind her, ducks into the doorway of his quarters.

"Who are you?" Sparks shouts. "What do you want?"

"Sorry about this, Isaiah," Rashid calls back. "This is an Iconian computer simulation, and I'm sorry to say you're a part of it!"

"What are you talking about?" comes the reply.

"Listen!" she calls to him, her back against the wall next to the doorway, clutching the phaser with both hands. "I'm coming out! I just want to talk, so don't shoot!"

She steps into the corridor, hands above her head, phaser in one hand.

Warily, Sparks emerges from his quarters, his phaser trained on Rashid. "How do you know you're not the simulation?" he asks.

"I can explain. Just, let's talk about it."

She relaxes her stance and steps toward him, and he lowers his phaser slightly. Seizing the moment, she shoots him in the shoulder, and he crumples.

Avala steps out, followed by Pon and Rylek. Her antennae point toward the other Rashid and Sparks, lying unconscious on the floor of the corridor.

"The key is to know your adversaries," Rashid says. "Come on."

They crawl into the open Jeffries tube access hatch, and climb towards the aft of the ship and down two decks into the stern section. Near the hatch leading to Engineering, Pon opens a panel and pulls out a small Type I phaser. She crawls next to Rashid, who silently counts down from three with her fingers. Then she opens the hatch and rushes forward, crouched behind a console on the lower level of Engineering. Pon trains her phaser on the upper level of Engineering and shuffles forward after Rashid.

A second Pon appears on the catwalk at the top of a ladder to the upper level. Rashid pushes the trigger on her phaser, but nothing happens. Behind her, Pon unsuccessfully tries to fire her phaser.

"What, did you flood Engineering with an ionized antiproton field?" she calls out to her double.

"Obviously. And I'm going to vent this entire deck into space unless you tell me what the _gnarf_ is going on."

"This is all a simulation, including you." Her double begins to speak, but she interrupts, saying, "Yeah, yeah, I know. 'Maybe _you're_ the simulation!' I have the data to prove it.

The other Pon does not step away from the environmental console. "Let's see it. Slowly."

Pon casts a glance at Rashid, then discards her phaser and climbs the ladder to the upper level.

The other Pon is glaring at her. "Alright, give it to me." The first Pon hands her the tricorder, and she examines it. "What is this supposed to be, a micro-universe?"

"Yeah. Yours."

"Well, how do I know it's not just the access point to your simulated universe?" she counters.

"Well, if you look closely, you'll notice there's another variable under the coaxial phase variant…" She sucker punches her double in the side of the head, and she falls against the console and to the ground.

"All clear, captain!" Pon calls, striding toward the deflector control station and activating it.

Rashid climbs the ladder, followed by Rylek and Avala. "Computer," the captain says. "Where are Alomar and Sorensen?"

"The bridge," the computer replies.

"Flood it with anesthizene gas."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Would I tell you to if I wasn't sure?" she retorts.

"Dispersing gas." The computer pauses. "Dr. Alomar and Dr. Sorensen are unconscious."

"Good. Download the transporter subroutine from Pon's tricorder and stand by to energize on my mark."

"Are you trying to beam to another universe?" the computer asks.

"Yes."

"Initializing."

Rashid steps next to Pon. "How long until the deflector is configured?"

"Not long. Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe? Less if you don't talk to me."

"Alright. But you and I need to have a talk when we get back to the ship." Rashid leaves the deflector control station and walks toward Avala and Rylek. "How are you two doing? How exactly did you get here?"

Avala meets her gaze. "Well, for starters, I disobeyed a direct order from Commander Sparks." She explains being processed at the Iconian detention center, released into the empty city, and their encounter with Lerex.

"I'm glad you're alive," Rashid tells them.

"We're ready," Pon calls from deflector control.

"Engage."

 _Icarus_ drops out of warp, and the deflector dish fires a beam of multicolored energy into the space in front of the ship. A rift opens, warping spacetime around it so that the starscape behind it seems to twist and bend.

"Computer," Rashid says. "Transport me through that rift according to the instructions you just downloaded."

"If you say so," the computer replies. Rashid dematerializes. A moment later, Pon's combadge chirps. "Rashid here. It worked."

"I told you it would," Pon says smugly. "Alright. You ready?"

Avala and Rylek nod. "Energize," Pon instructs the computer.

They materialize in an underwater garden, each of them surrounded by a thin bubble of air.

Rashid leads them through a thicket of coral into a large dome-shaped bubble of air. A gateway shimmers in the center of the bubble, showing an image of a white room with a window overlooking the sea. "Welcome back to reality," Pon says.

"This gateway will take us to another habitat," Rashid tells them. "From there, we're going to try and contact the ship. Let's go."

She and Pon step through the portal. As Avala and Rylek begin to follow, Avala's combadge beeps. She casts an anxious glance at Rylek and taps the badge. "Avala here."

"Avala," a garbled voice says. "Pon here. Are you kids hanging in there?"

She looks through the gateway, where Pon and Rashid can be seen talking to each other. Tension in her voice, she asks, "What are you talking about? You just got us out of the simulation…"

"No, we just got into the simulation. There's a valley, and a mountain, and some lava and shit. I think it might be Romulus. Stand by, we're on our…" The signal ends abruptly.

Rylek is breathing rapidly. "No. That cannot be them, can it? Are… are we still in the simulation?"

Avala swallows. "It's trying to trick us. Make us think we've escaped."

"But... if they are indistinguishable, how can we ever know for certain if we make it out?" Rylek shudders. "No. I cannot live like that, never knowing if I have escaped from the simulation. It is not logical…"

"Rylek! Rylek! Listen to me – we're going to get out. And next time we hang out with Jacques and X'thara and the others, we're going to have this crazy story to tell them. Okay?"

He nods. "Yes, Vanda. I… I do appreciate you coming for me. I do not believe I would be able to do this without you."

She puts her hand on his arm and nods sadly. "Yeah. I just… I couldn't lose you."

She squeezes his hand. His composure regained, Rylek walks alongside Avala through the gateway, leaving the underwater garden behind.

* * *

Rashid and Pon walk along a twilit hillside near the edge of a cliff, beyond which a deep chasm is lit by a flow of brilliant lava flowing from a dark mountain side. A grey planet hangs in the air near the horizon.

"So do you think it's Romulus?" Pon asks.

"It would make sense," Rashid answers. "If there's a Romulan here who can access the computer systems, chances are this is the environment she'd create."

They walk cautiously toward a small rectangular hut near the edge of the cliff. As they approach, there is a blur of dark movement which lunges towards them. Rashid draws her phaser and fires, stunning the approaching creature.

"A set'leth!" Pon exclaims. "I've never seen a living one before."

"Probably for the best." Rashid stuns the creature again for good measure. "Come on, let's try to find our people."

The door to the hut slides open and Lerex steps out, casting a suspicious glance in their direction. Valis toddles behind her.

"Get back inside, Valis," Lerex says to the child, who obeys dutifully. To Rashid and Pon, "Leave. Now."

"We're looking for our crew," Rashid explains.

Lerex strides toward them, and Rashid fires. The Romulan raises her cybernetic hand and space seems to twist around her, refracting the beam away from her. Her palm flashes red, and Rashid's phaser begins to emit a high-pitched whine. As she throws it away, narrowly avoiding the explosion when it overloads, Lerex walks through the rift in space in front of her. She emerges next to Pon, clenches her cybernetic fist, and strikes the Tellarite in the face before she has time to react.

As Pon collapses, Rashid turns to shoot again, but Lerex spins and strikes her hard in the chest with her organic hand. Rashid gasps and falls onto her back, wheezing for breath. Lerex seizes her by the throat and strides purposefully toward the edge of the cliff, dragging the captain in her organic hand.

Lerex reaches the edge of the cliff and thrusts Rashid into the air, suspending her by the throat over the steep plunge into the frothing pool of lava below. Rashid struggles against Lerex's grip, her legs flailing to find solid ground.

"This is MY world!" Lerex's eyes flash with rage. "You shouldn't have come here!"

"This world," Rashid gasps. "This world you've created. It isn't real. You're living in a fantasy!" Lerex tightens her grip, and Rashid chokes. "You can kill me, but it's not going to change that. This isn't where you belong. You created it, and it feels real, but it's not real!" Rashid wheezes for air. " _It's a fake!_ "

Rashid begins to lose consciousness. From the corner of her eye, Lerex sees Pon approaching. "Stay back, Tellarite!"

"Listen!"

"I will drop her – do not test me!"

" _Listen!_ " Pon barks. "It's her, isn't it? Your daughter."

Lerex opens her cybernetic palm facing Rashid, suspending her in the air, and releases her grip on the captain's throat. "Don't talk about my daughter," she says to Pon in a low voice.

Pon looks into her eyes. "I know. I understand why you're doing this."

"You cannot know."

"Yes. I can. I know what it's like to lose a child."

A moment of silence passes between Pon and Lerex as Rashid floats weightlessly over the precipice. Pon continues, "My son. My oldest. He was on an away mission on a Y-class planet, and an ion storm hit. They didn't expect it, and they tried to bring the away team back, but they didn't have transporter functionality and... and then he was just gone." She swallows. "And all of a sudden, I lived in a universe without him. So I understand what you've done here. Why you've built this world. But killing us isn't going to make it better." She stares at Lerex, expressionless. "Nothing does. Nothing can."

Lerex stares back at Pon, then casts the captain to the ground near Pon's feet. Rashid begins to cough uncontrollably.

"It was the Syndicate," Lerex says, her eyes moist. "When she was born, her father told me he would let me raise our daughter because he cared about me. But all they wanted was for me to form an emotional bond, so they could take her from me. Use her to control me." She chokes. "One day I tried to rescue her. I… I thought it would work. But it didn't. And to punish me, they… they…" Tears stream down her tattooed face. "I can't live in a world without her."

Pon's expression is grim. "I know. And it doesn't get better. It's a pain you're going to feel every day until the day you die."

"How do you live?" Lerex asks quietly.

"I work. It's the only thing I can do. I design and build things so that we can keep pushing forward, every day, into whatever frontiers are left. Because what else is there?"

Lerex faces her, eyes moist. "I am not strong enough to live in that world."

"I know. It's okay. Just let us go." She puts her hand on Lerex's shoulder. "Why do you need to keep Avala and Rylek here?"

"Because I told her to."

Pon turns to see Valis toddling towards them. "It's so rare that we have visitors on Terminus," the child says, an eerie expression on her face. "They're fascinating to observe."

With bloodshot eyes, Rashid looks at the child, massaging her throat. "What are you?" she asks in a weak voice. "An Iconian?"

The child blinks at her. "In a sense. The Iconians don't exist anymore in a form you would recognize. They aren't individuals. You might think of them as a cluster of technologies, some more directly derived from organic neural patterns than others. But in fact, the only thing that's really preserved from their existence as organic lifeforms is the ability to experience pleasure. As a result, they can't directly communicate with you."

"But you can," Pon observes.

"I was born from the network, and I am the network," Valis says. "And I'm going to release your crew members. There's no reason to keep them anymore. Because of you, they know they're being held captive, and creatures that know they're captives have a greatly reduced life expectancy. But we don't need captives anymore." She points a stubby, greenish finger at Rashid. "Because of you."

"Me?" Rashid asks suspiciously. "Why?"

"You know why. Because of what you are."

The captain says nothing. Lerex holds Valis close, sobbing silently. Valis smiles. "The Iconians were particularly fascinated by this one. The parent-child bond is alien to them, but it reminds them of their origins as organic beings. And she'd convinced herself that I was her daughter for a long time. But you ruined it. I can tell."

Lerex whispers to Valis, "I know you are not my daughter. I know that, and… I've always known that. But you look like her, and you smell like her, and your… your laugh… and everything about you."

"I understand," Valis tells her. "I appreciate what you have done for me. It was an experience like no other, to be loved."

"What will you do?" Lerex asks, her voice shaking.

"I will return to the network. Through me, the Iconians will know what has happened. They will be pleased."

She spreads her tiny arms and dissolves into nothingness.

Lerex crouches in the space before where she was, her head bowed. Rashid walks to her side. "What are you going to do?"

In a low voice, she says, "I was sent to this planet by a man called the Exarch. He is a great leader of our people. He rescued me and gave me purpose. I was sent here to learn about this world and gather their technology for use as weapons." She closes her eyes. "But I failed. By our code of honour, I should take my life."

Rashid leans close to her. "There's another way. Come with us. We have the ability to travel through this region. We could bring you back to our space. Maybe you could join one of the Romulan communities in the Federation."

Lerex looks up. "You would allow me aboard your ship?"

"I'd have to give you restricted access as a security precaution. That's standard procedure for non-Starfleet personnel. But yes, you could come aboard _Icarus_. We can even provide quarters for you."

Lerex takes a last look at the firefalls. "Very well, Captain Rashid. I can't stay here. I'm in your debt."

The Romulan sky fades above their heads, and they are in a dome of air surrounded by dark water lit by glowing corals on the habitat at the bottom of the ocean. Avala and Rylek are standing nearby, examining their surroundings and looking bewildered.

Rashid rushes to their side and pulls both into a tight embrace. "It's okay," she whispers. "It's okay. You're safe."

"Captain…?" Avala asks, unsure.

"It's over," she reassures them. "You're out of the simulation."

Avala begins to sob. "I want to believe you, captain… I really do…" She blinks back tears. Rylek is breathing heavily.

Rashid turns to Lerex. "We need to get off this planet. The rest of our crew is in position at the central gateway in the capital city. Can you help us?"

"Yes," she murmurs. She raises her cybernetic hand and a gateway appears.

Rashid nods. "Good." She stands and says to Avala and Rylek, "Take Lerex and go through the gateway. Isaiah and the others are waiting for you. Then stand by – before we leave, we're going to need some Currency. And there's something I need to do."

"Understood," Avala replies. Rylek approaches Lerex. She stands, and the trio passes through the gateway.

Rashid puts her hand on Pon's shoulder. "Pon," she whispers. "I'm so sorry about your son. I had no idea."

"Yeah, well I don't exactly advertise it in my records. People treat me differently when they know. They don't want to argue with me anymore."

"I'll still argue with you," she says with sincerity.

"I know. That's because you're my friend. I don't mind my friends knowing." She swallows. "He was a great kid, though. You would have liked him."

"I'm sure I would have." She glances across the terrace. "That thing Valis said about me. Do you know what she was talking about?"

"I have a theory," Pon replies. "But I don't think you're going to like it."

"I don't either. But I have to know."

They leave the dome of air and walk in silence through the garden to the still-open gateway on the other side, enclosed in their individual bubbles of air.

* * *

Avala and Rylek emerge in a grey room. There are red diamond-shaped markings on the wall and floor, and at one side of the chamber is a wide portal showing a hazy image of a desolate, crater-scarred planet. It changes to show a scrubby field with a large rock formation in the background pointing towards the sky.

"We appreciate you agreeing to use the gateway to get here," Sparks is saying to Ctai and Ixu.

"I believe if Koshal Vail were here, she would encourage us to take a flexible view of ritual purity." Ixu glances over Sparks' shoulder.

Sparks follows his gaze and notices the newcomers. He smiles and strides briskly to Avala and takes her in his arms in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," Avala sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"We'll talk about it later," Sparks tells her. "Yes, I'm disappointed in you. But I'm just so goddamn happy you're alive." There is a tear in his eye.

Sorensen smiles at Rylek and gives him a hug. He casts an unsettled glance at Sparks and Avala.

Alomar draws his medical tricorder and scans Lerex. "You are the Romulan the captain mentioned."

"Yes," she replies, eyeing him warily.

"The captain decided to take her aboard _Icarus_ since she was stranded here," Avala says to Sparks. "I understand that I'm in absolutely no position right now to question that, but it's my opinion that she's a security threat. She has advanced cybernetic enhancements and she already lied to us once, and put us in a simulated reality. I think she's dangerous."

"That may be," Sparks replies. "But granting humanitarian assistance to people in need is at the core of our mission. If the captain believes it's worth the risk, I agree with her assessment."

"I understand. I'm just concerned about the technology on _Icarus_ falling into the wrong hands."

"'If we can't recognize the inherent dignity of all sentient beings, then the Federation is meaningless,'" Sparks quotes. "Ambassador Picard said that, during the Reunification negotiations. A lot of people were opposed to bringing over five billion Romulan refugees into the Federation after the destruction of Romulus and the Klingon invasion. But now it's considered one of the greatest humanitarian gestures in our history – one of the defining moments of the Federation." He gestures to Lerex. "We owe this woman no less."

"Commander," Alomar calls, "Look at this."

He gestures to the gateway, which shows an image of a disc-shaped building. Sparks walks toward it. "Hey, isn't that Toronto?"

The image changes to a smog-choked world. Borg drones are visible in the foreground, shambling from task to task while a sphere flies among black spires which pierce the clouds, and Sparks and Alomar recoil. "Don't want to go there," Sparks says.

Avala gives Rylek a warm look, and in spite of himself, he smiles back.

* * *

"You're certain you want to see this, Zia?" Zey-Ar asks.

"I'm certain."

"I believe you will find it quite troubling."

She turns to him. "I understand that you're trying to protect me. But I'm not like the Iconians were. I'm not interested in living in a universe where you shield me from the truth. I'm an explorer. A scientist. I'm committed to understanding this universe as it is."

He bows his head. "Very well. Come with me."

A gateway opens up and they pass through it, emerging in a cylindrical room with no windows. A dim blue light comes from the ceiling. In the center of the room is a rectangular block. On top of the block is the charred remains of a Starfleet environmental suit.

Rashid steps closer. The faceplate of the suit is broken, and through it she can see a burnt, blackened skull. Below the neck are the tatters of a red Starfleet uniform, with four command pips above the black piping.

Tears in her eyes, Rashid faces Zey-Ar. "Why?"

He looks perplexed. "You were going to die."

"I did die!"

Zey-Ar stares at her. "Was I wrong in creating a copy of you?"

Rashid looks at her charred corpse. "I don't know. I'm alive, I suppose. In a manner of speaking. I guess I should thank you."

"Your neural pathways are identical to hers. By any of your standards of measurement, you are a fully organic being, the exact same person as she was."

Pon narrows her eyes. "By our standards of measurement?"

"She was generated by subspace computer technology which is built into her atomic structure. It allows her to leave Terminus," Zey-Ar explains. "It is far beyond the capability of your instruments to detect."

"Why wasn't she affected by my computer weapon?" Pon asks gruffly.

Zey-Ar regards Pon. "The subroutines you brought from the homeworld were fascinating from an archaeological perspective, but they never posed any serious threat to the core functionality of our systems."

"So when we disabled the Iconian probe that attacked _Icarus_ , were you just humouring us or what?" Pon asks, irritated. "And when Lerex disabled the sphere that was attacking Avala and Rylek…"

"I believe that the components of the Iconian network were more than willing to sacrifice a few vestigial systems in exchange for the opportunity to fulfil our functions again."

"Don't tell anybody about this," Rashid says to Pon, staring grimly at the corpse. "I'm not ordering you, but asking you. As a friend."

Pon meets her gaze. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Thanks."

"But you shouldn't feel like this makes you any less… you," Pon adds.

"But it does."

"Really, it's not that different from taking the transporter."

"Except for that." Rashid points at the body. "Zia Rashid is dead. I'm a duplicate created by alien technology."

"Well, yes. But I mean, what is it that makes you _you_? Is it your neural pathways? Because those are the same. Your molecular composition? Also the same. Your personality and the way you act? Same, as far as I can tell." She sniffs. "You see, this is what we Tellarites call one of the Great Arguments. Arguments that have been ongoing since prehistoric times, and still nobody's got a definitive answer. Because there isn't one. And that's what makes it great, because we can just keep shouting at each other about it for generation after generation." Pon puts her hand on Rashid's shoulder. "And I'm happy to keep arguing with you about it, Zia."

There is a tight-lipped smile on her face. "Well, I appreciate that, Pon."

"Because I'm right."

"I don't know about that." She looks up. "Let's go make some Currency. Zey-Ar, I want you to create an environment for me."

"Of course, Zia," he replies.

Rashid walks away from the corpse, and a gateway opens in front of her. She passes through it, Pon and Zey-Ar close behind her. The gateway closes and the lights dim, casting Captain Rashid's remains into darkness.

* * *

"Alright. Let's do 'Blue Velvet.' The arrangement from the 2028 musical of the same name by Annie Clark."

Rashid stands on an empty stage in a dimly lit room, a dark curtain behind her, with Zey-Ar to one side playing a grand piano. In a soft, clear alto, she sings into an early twentieth-century condenser microphone:

 _"She wore blue velvet  
Bluer than velvet was the night  
Softer than satin was the light  
From the stars…"_

 _Rashid and Pon are standing beneath the starlight in the terrace atop the habitat, their heads bowed. Zey-Ar pushes a plain black casket which hovers above the ground. Inside the casket is the charred body of the dead Captain Rashid, removed from the environmental suit and washed._

 _"She wore blue velvet  
Bluer than velvet were her eyes  
Warmer than May, her tender sighs  
Love was ours…"_

 _The blackened skull seems to gaze at the stars with empty eye sockets. Rashid stands over the body, whispering in Arabic. She places three small pieces of earth in the casket._

 _"Ours a love I held tightly  
Feeling the rapture grow  
Like a flame burning brightly  
But when she left, gone was the glow…"_

 _Zey-Ar creates a folded square of blue cloth in his hands, and it billows outward, expanding into a Federation flag. The casket closes and Rashid and Pon help drape the flag across it. A grave opens in the ground beneath the casket, and it slowly lowers beneath the surface of the terrace._

 _"She wore blue velvet  
But in my heart there'll always be  
Precious and warm a memory through the years…"_

 _As Rashid watches, her eyes downcast but dry, the edges of the grave begin to enclose, obscuring the blue of the flag draped over the coffin._

 _"And I still can see blue velvet through my tears…"_

Seated near the center of the empty auditorium, Pon claps alone, and it echoes through the simulated hall. She stands and walks down the aisle as Rashid leans on the piano. "Do we have any buyers?"

"Yes, Zia," Zey-Ar replies. "There has been a great deal of interest. The prevailing opinion is that the Iconians would greatly enjoy this authentic moment of Terran culture."

"Authentic," she repeats.

"I've placed Currency into Commander Pon's account amounting to two million three hundred thirty eight thousand."

"That's great," Rashid says. "Enough to get us off this planet." She leans closer. "Listen, Zey-Ar, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us. For me."

"It is my function to help you, Zia. I am pleased to have been able to do that."

"What will you do now? When we leave? Will you be alright?"

He runs his hands along the keys of the piano. "I will return to an incorporeal state in the habitat computer."

"You'll be alone. Potentially for a very long time."

"Not alone. I am connected to every other computer system on this planet. I will continue to be as I always have been."

Her dark eyes are wide. "Are you alright with that?"

"Do not worry about me, Zia. How will you cope? Now that you know what you are?"

She is silent for a moment. "I'm not sure. I… I'm glad I know, but I guess I have no idea how to process it. How I'm going to live with it. But you saved my life. I'll never forget it." She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you."

There is a blank expression on Zey-Ar's face, and he says nothing.

"Hey," Pon calls, standing at the front row of seats and banging her palm on the stage. "Are we done?"

Rashid glares at her, then turns back to Zey-Ar. "We're ready to go to the central gateway."

"Of course." A portal opens at the edge of the stage. "Goodbye, Zia."

She smiles, sadness in her eyes. "Goodbye, Zey-Ar."

She walks toward the portal. Pon is awkwardly climbing onto the stage and grunting.

"You know," Rashid says to her, "I appreciate what you said earlier, that you consider me a friend. And I consider you a friend too, Pon, I really do. But do you really need to intentionally antagonize me?"

Pon climbs to her feet. "Hey, if you were a Tellarite, you'd understand that I'm treating you with the utmost respect. You should appreciate it."

"Well, I would think you know me well enough to know how irritating it is. It's rude, and disrespectful, and completely intolerable. You are intolerable."

Pon grins. "I believe you have a Tellarite soul, captain."

Rashid suppresses a smile. "What did I just say about intentionally antagonizing me?"

They step through the portal, and it closes behind them.

Alone on the stage, Zey-Ar stares at the piano. He plays the opening chords of "Blue Velvet."

* * *

"Report." Rashid and Pon emerge into the central gateway chamber.

"We're ready to get underway when you are, captain," Sparks replies.

"Good," she says, taking stock of the crew. "Were you able to access the portal?"

"Yes, thanks to our Iconian friends, Ctai and Ixu. The portal recognized their authorization for us to use it."

"Excellent." She faces the aliens. "On behalf of the Federation, we thank you, and hope to continue to have good relations with your people. And I'm glad to have had the opportunity to meet you, even briefly. I regret that we don't have more time, but you were in good hands with Commander Sparks."

"Thank you, Captain Rashid," Ctai replies. "We understand that when an opportunity to leave Terminus presents itself, it is often best for aliens to take it."

She nods. "We appreciate your kindness." Facing the portal, she asks Sparks, "So how do we use this? Do we wait for _Icarus_ to show up, then jump through?"

"From what we can tell, it can detect from your thoughts where you want to go, and will create a portal to that location. It seems to be a more advanced system than the gateways Starfleet has encountered before."

"Yeah, but those were free," Pon adds. She addresses the gateway. "I have the currency. Take us to _Icarus_."

The _Icarus_ bridge appears in the gateway.

"I will recite the Twelfth Incantation," Ixu announces. He walks toward the portal, saying something in Iconian. Then he turns back to them. "It is ready. May the Aeon guide you to true knowledge."

"Thank you, Ixu," Sparks says, shaking his hand. "You too."

As the crew passes through the gateway one by one, Sorensen takes Ctai's hands. "I guess this is goodbye. You know, I… I'd offer for you to come along, but…"

"I had been considering it," Ctai confesses. "But my place is here. Perhaps someday, if it is not too dangerous, you may return."

"I'd like that," Sorensen replies, tears in her eyes.

"In the meantime, I believe the sorrow will remind us that we are living beings, and both emanations of the cosmic Aeon." She pauses. "Goodbye, Susan."

Sorensen embraces Ctai, burying her head in her robe and sobbing. Ctai's tongue attaches to Sorensen's cheek.

Then they hold each other at arm's length, and Sorensen opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. Giving Ctai one last wistful look, she follows the crew through the gateway.

Then she is on the bridge of _Icarus_ , and the gateway closes. After a stunned moment, she takes her station.

Rashid leans back in the command chair and crosses her leg. "It's good to be back. Rylek, why don't you plot us a course out of here. Warp 3. We'll contact Starfleet and continue our mission. But in the meantime, I think all of you deserve some rest."

"I can take the first shift, captain," Sparks volunteers. "I've probably had a night's sleep more recently than you."

"I'd appreciate that," she says. To Lerex, "I'll prepare quarters for you. Let me know if you need anything. We're heading toward a Starfleet message beacon that relays our comm signal back to Federation space. If there's anyone we can put you in contact with…"

"Thank you, captain," Lerex replies, a dead look in her eyes.

The crew filters off the bridge, and Avala approaches Rylek before noticing that he is catching up to Sorensen. He turns back to her. "Vanda."

"Hey," she smiles. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright."

He looks around. "I believe so, relatively speaking. Under the circumstances. Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She takes his hand and squeezes. "I'll catch you later."

"Of course, Vanda."

He catches up to Sorensen, who is smiling. "Okay, so I met this woman who I have to tell you about…"

At the command chair, Alomar puts his hand on Rashid's shoulder. "I'm glad you're back, Zia."

"Me too, Tomas. Want to get together later? There's a new holoprogram I want to try out. It's called _Trump: The Musical_ , about the lead-up to the Third World War. Mid-twenty-first century, one of Lin-Manuel Miranda's last works before he died. Pretty bleak stuff, but great music."

"Most definitely."

"And I was thinking that at our next dinner, I might invite Pon. What do you think?"

Alomar raises an eyebrow.

* * *

Rashid's ready room door chimes. "Enter," she says.

Avala steps inside hesitantly. Rashid gestures to a chair in front of her desk. "Have a seat, lieutenant."

The Andorian sits in front of her. "I've spoken to Commander Sparks," Rashid says. "He told me what happened."

Avala's antennae droop but she meets the captain's stern gaze. "I understand, captain."

"What you did was incredibly reckless. By disobeying the direct order of a senior officer, you endangered not only your own life, but all of our lives. Do you understand?"

"Aye, captain," she says softly.

"And quite frankly, given your record and the commendations from your references in the Imperial Guard, I expected better from you, lieutenant. I understand that Rylek is your friend, but by disregarding the chain of command, you made the situation worse."

"Yes, sir."

"This incident will be noted in my log and will go into your permanent record, and there will be a disciplinary hearing when we get back to Federation space. You should also know that if this ship had a full crew complement, you would be relieved of duty."

"I understand that."

Rashid takes a deep breath. "But since we don't, I'm prepared to keep you on active duty for the time being. Understand that I'm not doing this as a favour to you, or because I'm in any way overlooking the seriousness of your conduct, but because we just don't have the option of being shorthanded on this ship. And from now on, I expect nothing less than total respect for the chain of command. Is that clear, lieutenant?"

"Aye, captain."

They stare at each other for a long moment, then Rashid leans back. "Good. At ease, lieutenant." She pauses for a moment. "I understand that you and Rylek went through quite an ordeal."

"Yes, captain."

"I'd imagine you're not totally convinced that it's over, either. That this isn't just another simulation."

"No, sir." She hesitates. "And, if I may say so, sir, this isn't the first time I've had this conversation. I suppose it's appropriate that I'd be dressed down again and again for my mistake. Sir."

Rashid smiles humourlessly. "Well, for what it's worth, I hope it's the last time you need to have it. With me, anyway."

"I appreciate that, sir."

"How's Rylek doing?"

She relaxes somewhat. "He's doing alright, I think. He hasn't been in many situations like this. But I'd say he's handling it admirably."

"He's lucky to have a friend like you." Rashid leans forward. "You have the potential to be a great Starfleet officer, Vanda. If I put in a good word for you at the hearing, they'll almost certainly find in your favour. And I'm prepared to do that, if you give me reason to."

She meets the captain's gaze. "You have my word that you will."

"That's all I ask." Rashid smiles compassionately. "Space can be a very strange place, and some of the things you experience as a Starfleet officer can really affect you. Change you. Make you unsure of who you are, and whether you belong in this life. But I think we have a lot more in common with the Iconian computer systems we met on Terminus than we may think. For them, the most important thing was to fulfil their functions as best as they could. It's a lot like us. We explore new worlds, seek out new frontiers. That's what makes us who we are. What else can we do?"

Avala nods silently.

"And in doing so," Rashid continues, "we make connections with good people around us. And whether it's strictly real from an objective standpoint or not… who's to say." She opens a drawer in her desk. "Would you like some marijuana?"

"Sure," Avala replies. The captain loads her vaporizer and puts on experimental Andorian music.

The dense starscape streaks by outside Rashid's window.

 **Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it - let me know what you think! Happy International Women's Day and goodnight.**


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